Blood of Thy Enemy
by Jenkt5
Summary: Regulus unexpectedly survives his retrieval of Slytherin's locket from the cave. After feeling Voldemort's summons to his rebirth and coming face to face with his brother after nearly sixteen years, will he be able to keep old ties severed? Begins Post-GoF.
1. Rebirth of a Nemesis

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own any of the characters or scenes that you recognize.

 _This story jumps into things rather quickly, though a back story of Regulus and his family's past will unfold as you read. Harry is only sparingly in the first several chapters but will have a more central role soon after._

* * *

"Carina has a boyfriend," Regulus remarked in a poor effort at sounding casual at the breakfast table.

His wife, Maliah, smirked, "Finally figured that out, did you? She wrote to me about Andrae weeks ago."

"And you didn't see fit to tell me?"

"I promised I wouldn't," she answered simply.

"Shouldn't you have known before us, dad? I mean, you are one of their professors…"

"Children should be seen at mealtimes, not heard," he answered just as his mother would have done, though his remark was without any of her malice. "Eat your breakfast, Caelum."

The eleven year old boy sniggered, "Since when can I not talk while we eat? You just don't like being the last to know things."

"No, I don't."

"Who would want to date my sister anyway? Ugh."

"It seems at least half the boys in school of late," Regulus answered grumpily. His children were growing up much too quickly for his liking, "Andrae is a fifth year."

"I suppose Carina Sirius is living up to her namesake then, isn't she?" Maliah teased.

Regulus winced. His brother's former popularity with the opposite gender was certainly not why they had named their daughter after him.

"He's a half-blood," Regulus remarked offhandedly, earning himself a warning look from his wife.

"That doesn't matter, right? Blood status," his son asked, looking between them.

"No, there's no difference," Regulus answered firmly. Maliah visibly relaxed. "But his sudden disappearance could be more easily covered up if he were muggle-born-"

"Regulus!" she laughed, "You can't go making an example of this boy! Carina would only rebel by finding someone worse to date."

"He's an average student at best. Carina is much smarter and she's only fourteen. _Fourteen,_ which is too young to be dating in the first place."

"She will be fifteen in little more than a month. You're going to have to accept the fact that she is growing up."

Regulus jabbed his fork into his eggs a bit more forcefully than necessary, causing his wife and son to exchange amused glances. Excusing himself from the table, he stood, intent to get some grading done before his first class that morning.

"Can I go to school with you, dad?" his son asked to the surprise of no one. Caelum adored sitting in on his father's defense classes, especially when the students were given practical exams.

"You will begin Beauxbatons soon enough. You have your own lessons to attend to."

"Please, dad? I only want to watch the seventh years' last attempts at producing patronuses. I can work on my lessons during your other classes… Please?"

Regulus fully intended to say, "No," as it was the end of the term and he had a lot of grading he needed to get caught up on, which he knew would be more difficult with his son there. One look at Caelum's hopeful expression though and he heard himself agreeing.

"Go quickly and change into something more presentable," he directed as Caelum was still in his pajamas. "I'll warn you though, some of my best seventh years are still at Hogwarts for the Triwizard tournament. It is unlikely you will see any corporeal patronuses today."

Caelum snatched the toast from his plate and left to get dressed. Regulus watched the back of his head disappear up the stairs and resisted the urge to tell him to run a brush through his hair before coming back down.

He tried not to be overbearing towards his children as his parents had been. Over the years he had even managed to let go of the worst of his family's prejudice and customs. Ensuring his family looked their best before leaving the house was too ingrained in him to let go of anytime soon though.

Aside from not seeing any harm in taking pride in the way his family presented themselves in general, they were also Blacks. The majority of France may not be as familiar with his family's reputation, but he wouldn't be forgetting it anytime soon.

He looked back at his wife to find her watching him. At his questioning look she grinned mischievously, "The entire day to myself? However shall I spend it?"

"This is going to be expensive, isn't it?" he asked wryly.

"Best not to think about it, my love," she whispered before giving him a swift kiss and following her son up the stairs to finish getting ready.

* * *

Regulus had a fairly good day of teaching at Beauxbatons Academy. His first class had been fourth years, which included his daughter. He had been able to pull her aside after her final exam to have a nice chat about why she was much too good for the Andrae brat. It went about as well as any discussion of that nature between a father and teenage daughter could.

His day got immensely better when said daughter's boyfriend graced him with his presence in his very next class. With the OWL equivalent not being taken at Beauxbatons until sixth year, he had more flexibility in testing his fifth year students.

He had asked for a volunteer to be the target for which the other students took their practical exam. When no one offered to be their guinea pig, he took great satisfaction in volunteering Andrae. It was clear by his classmates' reactions they understood the implication of why was chosen.

It was only in good fun, of course. He cast enough protective spells to ensure no student would be injured in his classroom. Still, Regulus couldn't deny it had been fun watching him squirm. It was well known that he was a bit overprotective when it came to his children. Despite what his wife said, he couldn't think of any good reason not to 'make an example' of his daughter's first boyfriend. Even teachers had their reputations to maintain, after all.

His last class had been bittersweet as it was of seventh years and likely the last time he would ever see some of those 'kids'- who were technically adults now. He had taught most of them since they had been eleven, the same age Caelum was now. He had watched them as they learned the most basic of disarming spells until now as they were demonstrating various levels of success in casting patronus charms.

The graduating class this year had begun their education at Beauxbatons in the same year he started his teaching career. It made him feel extremely old to think about.

As Regulus returned home with Caelum (Carina had unsurprisingly opted to return home with her friends) that evening he felt an unexplainable sense of unease. His left forearm still ached on occasion from malaise, though it had not properly 'burned' in well over fifteen years. He thought perhaps he was being paranoid, but couldn't quite shake the feeling that something terrible was looming.

Just as his son was trying to talk him into playing a game of 'snitches only' quidditch before dark, it happened. His left forearm burned - a summons. It was not as agonizing or demanding of attention as it once would have been, but certainly enough to make him uncomfortable. Of course, the discomfort was nothing compared to the anxiety he felt.

* * *

'Padfoot' impatiently waited for Remus outside Sturgis Podmore's house. After listening to Harry recant the horrors he experienced in the graveyard, he left him less than an hour later, to go and 'round up the old gang' on Dumbledore's orders.

He was his godfather, yet rarely had been able to act as such in the past fifteen years. It was necessary, of course, but he still felt guilty for leaving Harry so quickly.

He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter that he left, that Harry understood. He knew he could have only stayed in the capacity of 'Padfoot' and would not have been very useful to his godson. Besides, Harry was now in the care of Molly Weasley, a woman with more parental instincts than Sirius could ever hope to have.

None of that could make him forget the disappointment he had seen in Harry's eyes as he left him though.

Making matters worse was that Sirius was equally useless in the task of recruiting the old members of the Order as he had been at comforting Harry.

Considering his presumed status of 'Voldemort's Right Hand Man', and an Azkaban Escapee _,_ he couldn't argue Remus' point that it was best for him to stay hidden in his dog form while he explained the finer points of Voldemort's rebirth to the former Order members.

He was pulled from his miserable dog thoughts when Remus returned,

"Ready to go, Snuffles?"

Sirius, the dog, yelped in agreement before leading Remus into a copse of trees where he could transform back into his human form.

"How'd it go?" Sirius asked once transformed.

"As well as can be expected. He is eager to hear from Dumbledore."

Of course he was, Sirius thought. The first Order meeting couldn't happen fast enough. "Does Podmore still have that awful haircut?" He wondered aloud.

Remus' lip twitched, "It looks thatched as ever," he confirmed. "How did Harry seem to be handling things? You never really said."

Sirius shrugged, "He's a tough kid. He's been through so much though… I thought I might see about keeping him with me this summer- away from the Dursley's. Do you think Dumbledore would allow it?"

"Only one way to find out," Remus answered thoughtfully. "I think it's time to call it a night though. I could barely get Podmore to come to the door when I showed up and he's always had a habit of staying up later than most."

"Not to mention we've pretty much visited everyone who was in the Order last time that is still alive…"

"Impressive statistics," Remus sighed glumly.

"Are you going back to your place in Yorkshire?"

Remus nodded, "You're welcome to come with me if you need a place to stay."

Sirius hesitated, "I thought I might check out Grimmauld Place," he answered with obvious distaste. "Aside from Hogwarts, it's probably the safest place in Britain. It's been left empty since my _dear_ mother passed."

* * *

Regulus pushed open the front door of number twelve Grimmauld Place with a profound sense of sadness. He gave a passing glance to the deteriorating furnishings and portraits as he made his way up the stairs to his childhood bedroom.

Despite the age of everything, it was in relatively good shape. He had visited shortly after hearing of his mother's death. Upon his visit, he had been happily surprised to find Kreacher and took him back to France with him.

Sometime later, the house elf requested to be allowed to see to both houses. Not wanting his childhood home to deteriorate further, Regulus agreed. Kreacher had been apparating himself to Grimmauld Place every couple of weeks to dust and take care of any magical infestations that arose ever since.

Regulus had always been less thrilled to visit. To him, there was a fine line between tranquility and loneliness, and no place toed that line better than Grimmauld Place.

He had not come here for peace or even solitude tonight. In truth, he didn't know why he had come at all. He could have sent Kreacher to check on the locket, the locket that he had risked his life in exchange for all those years ago.

He caught sight of himself in a mirror on the second landing and was struck by how little his appearance had changed since the last time he had visited there. He had been spared from the undesirable traits of pre-mature graying or hair loss, and his hair was kept only slightly shorter than it had been in his youth. His skin remained smooth and unwrinkled. His eyes still gray, though he liked to think they looked kinder than they once had.

He had inherited all of the Black family's classic features. It occurred to him that his looks were the only thing left in his life that connected him to the family he had been born into.

He didn't exactly believe in fate, but there was no doubt something more had been at play that night in the cave. How else could a planned suicide mission have turned into a means of escape from a life he had come to hate?

He had gone from parroting the beliefs of his family, to pledging his life to the Dark Lord. Soon after, he dedicated his life to finding a way to defy Voldemort. Discreetly, of course. He had no intention of making his family pay for his mistakes.

After his stint in the cave, he traded in his life of living for any sort of cause. He exchanged it for one with a much greater purpose and never once regretted it. That didn't mean he didn't feel guilt for his good fortune, never more so than when Sirius had been sent to Azkaban for a crime Regulus knew he would have died rather than ever commit.

Why had he felt drawn to Britain now? Tonight of all nights, only hours after his left forearm had burned for the first time in over a decade. Had he lost his sense of self-preservation?

It wasn't as if Voldemort could have used _that_ horcrux to return to a human body. Aside from having already been destroyed by fiendfyre, the Black's ancestral home was practically a fortress. He and his father had added every practical protection to the already well protected house when Regulus' loyalty to Dark Lord had begun to waver.

Regulus had left the remains of the locket hidden in his old bedroom in the relative comfort of knowing that Voldemort would never be granted access inside the Black ancestral home, and that none of his death eater family members would know to look for a horcrux there. As far as he knew, no one else even knew there was a horcrux to find.

If he were keeping a tally of all of the things that caused him to feel guilt, not telling anyone else about the horcrux was quickly nearing the top. Unfortunately, at the time of his 'death' there hadn't been anyone he could trust with the information who wouldn't have tried to arrest or kill him on sight without bothering to listen to what he had to say. The exception being those whom he couldn't bring himself to endanger further with the information.

If the death eaters had truly been called to return to Voldemort's side tonight, it undoubtedly meant that _he_ had managed to return to his human body. Regulus may not have dedicated his life to ensuring there weren't more horcruxes, but he would never forgive himself if Voldemort found a way to retreive and repair Slytherin's locket to regain a body.

As he reached his old bedroom, he fondly read the plaque that still hung on his door. 'Do Not Enter without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black,' he could still hear Sirius taunting him when he hung it up after his second year at Hogwarts.

Leaving the sign, he unlocked his door and walked inside. He did his best to ignore the obvious pureblood obsession of his previous life and walked directly to his desk.

Pulling open the top most drawer, and undoing several protections, he eventually revealed what he had been searching for.

The remains of the locket were just as incinerated yet ominous as he remembered. He closed his eyes in both relief that the locket was still there and in shame.

He didn't have to feel guilty about keeping the horcrux to himself when he had destroyed the "only one" that existed. He could only assume now that had never been the case.

* * *

'Padfoot' led Remus towards Grimmauld Place with no small amount of trepidation. The house had only ever been marginally more welcoming than Azkaban and if not for the dementors, Sirius thought he might prefer the prison.

According to Dumbledore his mother had died a decade ago. He was the last surviving male of a family he hated. Any hope of the Black family's legacy surviving rested with him.

He vowed to use every contraceptive known to wizard kind, should the opportunity to reproduce present itself. The Black family _deserved_ to die out. They were bigoted, arrogant and cruel- and prided themselves on those qualities as if they could actually be considered admirable.

It would be his last great act of defiance towards the family he despised to ensure the family name died with him. His mother of all people, deserved nothing less.

There was no telling what sort of disarray they would find the house in. Kreacher had probably died by now, leaving behind a rotting corpse that Sirius was sure would add to the furnishings. If Kreacher was still alive and on his last leg, it wouldn't take much for him to help the him on his way out. Merlin, he hated that elf.

Kreacher would parrot the beliefs of his family about pureblood supremacy, without ever giving thought to the fact that it was those purebloods he loved so much who forced him to punish himself whenever he disobeyed them.

His greatest aspiration in life had been to have his head chopped off and mounted to a wall in the stairwell of the Black's ancestral home. He was fanatical and demented- in short, the perfect elfin match to the 'Noble' and Most Ancient House of Black.

Regulus had called it taking pride in his work.

Regulus. While it would have been difficult to return to Grimmauld Place in any situation, thinking of his brother made it physically painful. Somewhere in his chest region there was an ache- a hollowed space never to be filled again.

Their parents had likely only reproduced to ensure the Black name lived on, as was their duty.

To his mother they were the brats who caused messes in the house of her fathers and were constantly risking her reputation with their tomfoolery.

To his father they were putty, requiring both instruction and punishment to mold them into a near replication of himself.

There was no need for Sirius nor Regulus to have opinions, for they always agreed with whatever their parents thought.

Until Sirius didn't.

The give and take of tolerance and discipline in his childhood, was replaced by animosity and resentment in the years after he began Hogwarts. He could only imagine the intensity of their loathing after learning he had joined The Order- that he would willingly take up arms against their 'only' son.

There had never been any love between Sirius and his parents, but he and Regulus had been close once. In a family that resented their presence, there was solace in having each other.

Of course, even that changed once Sirius left for school and was sorted into Gryffindor. After his parents learned of his sorting, they became less indifferent towards their youngest child in favor of being more manipulative.

Regulus died before he was old enough to realize the extent in which he was being misled. Then again, he was a Black. Maybe Sirius was being overly optimistic to think it would have made a difference. He had certainly never been brave. He had hid behind Sirius in their youth, behind his gang of Slytherins at school, and behind a mask as a death eater.

He had been easily influenced and a coward. He had also barely lived long enough to see eighteen.

Sirius transformed into his human form and approached the door of number twelve Grimmauld Place.


	2. A Meeting of Brothers-

Standing in the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place, Sirius decided Azkaban would in fact have been more inviting. There he would have had his own welcoming committee, albeit they would have been dementors, who may or may not have had the restraint to allow his soul to remain in its rightful place.

Remus followed him inside his ancestral home. As he had only ever heard about the terrors of the place from Sirius, he was taking in his surroundings with great interest. Not watching where he was going, he tripped over the blasted troll-leg umbrella stand.

"Regulus?" the female voice of Satan called.

Sirius exchanged a look with Remus before resigning himself to approach the apparent source of his mother's voice. He had no doubt which portrait would be the first he removed from the house.

Walking to the portrait, he unceremoniously wrenched open the velvet curtains. He set his jaw as he stared down the woman he had resented in his youth and despised in adulthood.

He took in her yellowing skin and overly sharp cheekbones; her bulging eyes as she recognized him. She had once been considered beautiful, but the years hadn't been kind her. He was just spiteful enough to be glad for it.

"You!" She exclaimed, "How dare you return here!"

"Were you expecting someone else, _mum_? In case it's escaped your notice, your precious Regulus is dead. You have yourself to thank for that."

As if just coming out of a stupor, his mother's portrait sprang into action, "Filthy disgrace of my flesh! Blood traitor! Stain of dishonor! Be gone from here!" she shouted at him angrily.

Brandishing clawed hands she made to tear into him. Unable to reach him, she began screaming shrilly, and unbrokenly until every other portrait in the house had awoken and began hollering out as well.

Her eyes began rolling, she was drooling, and still she continued to shout out insults.

She had always been irrational and discriminatory, but it appeared her crazed ideologies had eventually driven her into madness.

Sirius fought to close the velvet curtains back over her portrait as he answered her insults with a colorful assortment of his own. There was some magical force on the curtains that made them difficult for him to close.

* * *

Regulus carefully returned the once-horcrux to its packaging and stowed it back in his desk. He was just about to go downstairs to disapparate home to his family, when he heard his mother's portrait screaming out vulgarities.

He quickly removed the horcrux from his desk and hastily forced it into the pocket of his robes. He was unsure of who had managed to break through the wards, but it should have been impossible for anyone who wasn't a Black.

He left his room and carefully closed the door behind him. He strained his ears to hear what was going on downstairs.

He could have sworn he heard voices before, but as hysterical as his mother was screaming and as noisy as the other portraits were being in result of it, he couldn't hear anyone else. He crept down the stairs to a lower landing until he was able to catch sight of who the intruder was.

His brother was standing at his mother's portrait- no doubt taunting her, while she screamed every obscenity she could think of at him for disgracing their family and soiling the house of her fathers', and the like.

Regulus couldn't leave Grimmauld Place from an upper level of the house, but he could disapparate to just inside its entrance and walk out the front door from there. In all of the commotion he thought it likely to go unnoticed.

The problem was that he was he genuinely curious about Sirius. He hadn't seen him in fifteen years, twelve of which Sirius had lived in Azkaban. How had he managed to escape? Was he even remotely sane anymore? Had he been entirely sane to begin with?

That had always been questionable, really. Sirius' sanity. He had done everything he could to infuriate their parents when they were younger- knowingly worsening their treatment of him in response.

Regulus would never claim their parents to have been the coddling sort. They had had high expectations. They were widely known for overreacting to anything that could have jeopardized their position in society, and they had no qualms about punishing their children as they saw fit.

Knowing that, why would any sane person, child or otherwise purposely bring their wrath upon themselves as Sirius had always done?

As he was now irately trading insults with the portrait of a woman who had been ten years deceased, Regulus could only presume Azkaban hadn't done his mental state any favors.

His mother in the portrait was distraught by Sirius' presence and was inadvertently making a fool of herself in response. He wondered not for the first time what his mother's reaction to her portrait would have been if she could have somehow seen it while still in her right mind.

She had the portrait created and hung with a permanent sticking charm out of spite when Sirius was the only one left to inherit Grimmauld Place. If the portrait would have been created a decade previous, her personality still would have been harsh, but at least she could have delivered her insults in eloquence and with dignity.

The woman in the portrait was not how Walburga Black would want to be remembered. If anything, the muse of the portrait induced Regulus' pity. She had been driven insane by the loss of her husband and the unknowing of her 'only' child's cause of death. The son, who despite being born second, she believed to be the rightful heir of the Black family.

While she had been left alone in a house that served as a constant reminder of what she had lost, Regulus had been abroad with a family of his own. He had severed all ties with the family he had been born into, in favor of protecting the one he and Maliah had created.

There wasn't anything he could do to comfort his mother now, nor Sirius for that matter.

As painful as it was to see his brother after all of this time without approaching him, he didn't have another choice if he wanted to keep his survival hidden.

His mother had evidently caught sight of someone else in the room, for her array of insults increased to include half-bloods and half-breeds.

As it seemed Sirius had not come alone to the house, Regulus considered going back upstairs and calling for Kreacher, rather than risk being seen by whoever had accompanied his brother.

The protections on their ancestral home had been primarily designed to keep out wizards. Kreacher, being their family's house elf was still able to come and go as he pleased using his own assortment of magic.

Remembering the time of night, Regulus preferred not to disturb his house elf. The last time he had called on him at such a late hour had been when he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave to retrieve Slytherin's locket over fifteen years ago.

Considering Kreacher's observation during supper that Regulus appeared 'anxious,' calling him in the middle of the night like this was liable to give him the elfin equivalent of a heart attack. He wasn't as young as he used to be.

He was pulled from his musings when he realized his mother had stopped shouting,

"Regulus?" she called. He looked up to find her eyes locked on him.

Damn. There was a muggle saying about curiosity killing a cat or something along those lines. Regulus could relate as there was no doubt his mother's portrait was about to blow his cover.

Perhaps it would be his downfall, but he still had his pride. He would not suffer the indignity of being caught lurking in the shadows of his childhood home.

"I'm here, mother," he said calmly as he elegantly made his way down the rest of the stairs and towards her. Ignoring the look of utter shock on Sirius' face, which would have been comical in another situation, he greeted him with a slight nod, "Sirius."

Choosing to allow his brother to take in his presence before bombarding him with an explanation, Regulus stood attentive but at an unimposing distance away from Sirius and remained silent.

Sirius hesitated only briefly before launching himself at Regulus, violently forcing him against the wall.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I would have hoped you could recognize your own brother," Regulus answered in the most neutral tone he could manage while being accosted at wand point, "I haven't changed that much over the years."

The same could not be said for Sirius. His body had clearly become emaciated during his time in prison, with little improvement being made since his escape. His once handsome face was now gaunt and his eyes had lost the ever present mischief they once held.

It would have taken next to no effort for him to extract himself from his brother's clutches given his current physical form. He allowed Sirius to hold him there, knowing that pulling himself away would almost certainly guarantee a duel to ensue. He much preferred to offer minimal details in exchange for Sirius' word to keep his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was for his continued existence to become known to the entirety of wizarding Britain.

His mother's portrait began shrieking again, demanding that Sirius release Regulus, for he was unworthy even to touch him or some such nonsense. The other portraits once again joined in with the shouting.

Sirius released Regulus in favor of covering his ears as the noise level had reached a near painful level for his keen sense of hearing.

Regulus discreetly stepped away from Sirius, and caught sight of Remus Lupin as he did so. The werewolf had opted to remain in the shadows of the room, but naturally he too had his wand firmly trained on Regulus.

Regulus turned his back on the former Gryffindor, with the hope that Lupin would be decent enough not to attack someone from behind, unprovoked.

Careful not to look as if he were about to curse anyone, he began a complicated wand pattern. Upon completing it a moment later, the house became quiet once more.

Sirius looked back to him in surprise, "How did you do that?" he demanded.

"I was trained as the heir of the family," he answered simply.

Sirius looked around them at the threadbare carpet, and old wallpaper. He took in the shrunken house elf heads mounted to their plaques on the wall leading up the staircase before looking back at Regulus. Apparently Regulus' ability to quiet the portraits had inadvertently proven his identity.

"You've been living _here_ all this time?" Sirius asked contemptuously.

"No, I've lived abroad. I only came to check on something."

Sirius sneered, "Check on something…like what, your _master_? Tell me, how are your old pals? Did you feel your supposed _superiority_ while you were terrorizing my _fourteen_ year old godson in the graveyard?"

"I am _not_ a death eater," Regulus answered emphatically. "I come here periodically to ensure things are in order, but otherwise stay out of Britain. I don't know anything about a graveyard or even about your godson for that matter. I left Britain before he was born."

He supposed that was a lie. He did know Harry Potter was proclaimed as 'the boy who lived,' and that he had been the fourth champion of the Triwizard Tournament, but neither seemed appropriate to mention.

"And you just happened to come back tonight? On the same night as Voldemort's rebirth. Rather coincidental, don't you think?"

Regulus closed his eyes involuntarily as he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He had hoped somehow, something had gone awry and that Voldemort wasn't really back. It was like an old nightmare realized to hear the words aloud.

"Shouldn't you be out celebrating?" Sirius asked scathingly as he prodded him in the chest with his wand.

Regulus stared at it. It wasn't the ebony wand that had chosen Sirius in Diagon Alley when he was eleven. He vaguely wondered where he had gotten it.

"What is there to celebrate?" He asked miserably. "Despite what you think, I left the death eaters- fifteen years ago. The _only_ reason I am still alive is because everyone thinks I am dead."

His remark was met with silence until, unexpectedly, Sirius began to chuckle quietly to himself. His light laughter quickly escalated into a fit of near hysterics. Regulus looked to Lupin who had stepped out of the shadows by then, but it was clear by his expression he didn't know what was going on in Sirius' head either.

As his laughter became more controlled, Sirius looked him over with a mixture of amusement and derision, "But what sort of life is that for our pompous prince? To have to live in hiding? Though by the state of you I can see you weren't exactly roughing it. Instead of standing against a tyrant you chose to flee. I never knew such a coward could exist, though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised when it's you."

Regulus grit his teeth and forced himself to remain silent. He wasn't a coward, but he wasn't irrational either. His best hope to keep his family safe was to keep up the façade of who he was believed to be. Even if it meant his brother would continue to hate him.

He had supposedly been killed for being unable to do what was asked of him as a death eater. As it wasn't entirely untrue, keeping the rumor alive should have been easy. Seeing the disgust in his brother's eyes, it was anything but.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" Sirius demanded.

Regulus shook his head ruefully, "I am sorry to hear about your godson."

"He's going to be fine," Sirius said. It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.

"What - how?" Regulus asked in bewilderment.

Sirius chuckled darkly, "Harry, unlike you, has a spine. He did not run from Voldemort but dueled with him. He came out with his life by the skin of his teeth. Many older and more trained wizards have been nowhere near as brave." The last part was clearly meant as a jibe at him.

He wouldn't pretend he wasn't impressed with the Potter kid's ability to survive. He had no doubt that if Voldemort involved him in his rebirth, it had been to make a point, what with all of those 'boy who lived' rumors. For Harry to have escaped would have taken far more composure than most possessed- certainly more than he recalled having at fourteen.

Still, it wasn't as if he knew him or would have truly mourned his death if it happened. Regulus was more worried for what it would do to Sirius, if something worse should happen to his godson.

"Have you considered getting him out of the country?"

"I have no intention of raising my godson to be a coward!"

Regulus elected to keep his experience on that matter to himself.

The first time he had seen Maliah after surviving his intended suicide mission into the cave, he learned she was pregnant. Maybe it would have been braver to have left her to fend for herself while he valiantly joined forces with the Order of the Phoenix. He probably would have been carted off to Azkaban rather than allowed to fight with them, but he might not have been considered as cowardly for his efforts.

If his leaving the country fifteen years ago made him a coward, he was fine with it. The benefits greatly outweighed any of his remorse. If he were Sirius he would do the same for Harry- if not to hide him than to ensure he was properly trained. As far as he knew, Hogwarts had a new Defense against the Dark Arts professor every year of his lifetime. There couldn't be any consistency in that.

Whatever happened in the graveyard would have only justified his leaving all the more. Children deserved to be protected, not thrown into a war of old men, unprepared.

"You wouldn't have to hide as much if you left. You could train him-"

"Are you seriously trying to give me advice right now?" Sirius asked in disbelief. "What would you know about caring for a teenager? What would you know about caring for anyone aside from yourself? You've never done anything that wasn't to save your own skin!"

Regulus hesitated, "I do have a bit of experience in being wanted by the ministry though. I can't show my face here anymore than you can."

"The difference is I am innocent!"

"I know that," Regulus said quietly. "But you can't very well stay in Britain without being noticed. What good are you to your godson if you're arrested, or...?" He recalled the Ministry's announcement that Sirius would receive a dementor's kiss upon capture.

"Just go away," Sirius sighed. "Get out of my house and don't come back - less the ministry will be notified where they can find someone who actually deserves Azkaban."

Regulus looked at him in surprise. He had expected it to be difficult to evade his brother's interrogation. While it certainly made his exit clearer, he couldn't deny Sirius' careless dismissal stung.

* * *

Sirius stared after Regulus as he left Grimmauld Place without another word. His brother was alive. He couldn't even begin to sort out how he felt about it.

"Are you… okay?" Remus asked after a few moments.

"I should have called Dumbledore. I should have ensured he was sent to Azkaban, no doubt he deserves it."

Remus gave him an indecipherable look, "You would want him sent there?"

"He is a known death eater," Sirius reminded him. "The only reason he wasn't sent there before is because he died too soon."

"I think it's pretty clear he isn't a death eater anymore. Why else would he have bothered with faking his death? Snape would have told Dumbledore if the death eaters were in on it."

"Snape's word counts for nothing-"

"It does to Dumbledore," Remus corrected him tersely.

There was no reason to refute his point. For reasons beyond anyone else's comprehension, Dumbledore did trust Snape.

"I wonder why he changed his mind?" Remus said after a moment.

He could wonder all he wanted, Sirius thought. He was certain they wouldn't be seeing him again and he was determined not to think about it now. Not yet.

He silently made his way towards the kitchen in hope of finding something strong to drink. Removing his mother's portrait from the wall would have to wait. Too many people had returned from the dead that day for him to deal with anyone else, least of all her.


	3. To Love or To Hate

By the time Regulus returned home from his encounter with Sirius, he had half a mind to remain awake rather than bother with trying to sleep. The sun was already beginning to rise, signaling the start of a new day.

At Hogwarts, the students remained at school for a week awaiting their exam results before going home. Beauxbatons was different in that the students returned home the day after their final exams concluded and awaited the results of their term by owl.

As such, Carina was scheduled to arrive in Paris that evening, and he expected it would be a late night. As was their habit upon meeting her at the station, either Maliah or Carina would insist on remaining in the city for much of the evening for some attraction or other. Inevitably, whether initially planned or not, some level of shopping would transpire before the night was over.

It was tradition for Maliah and Carina to carry on excitedly through the city while Regulus and Caelum resignedly followed them. Regulus often joked that he nor Caelum would be allowed to tag along at all if not for Maliah and Carina needing their hands free to buy more things. Neither of them ever denied it.

While there was likely too much on his mind to actually fall sleep, nothing sounded better to him in that moment than to hold Maliah and his children tight and never let them out of his sight. With that thought in mind, he made his way up the stairs.

He checked in on Caelum, who was sound asleep and sprawled out as if trying to take up as much space in his bed as he possibly could. Shutting the door back quietly, Regulus padded down to the other end of the hallway and into his and Maliah's bedroom.

Pulling open the top drawer of his dresser and shuffling around the clothing inside, he created a small compartment in the corner of the drawer before casting protection and concealment charms on it. Once satisfied with its security, he stashed the once-horcrux inside for the time being. He then straightened the clothing back down, and shut the drawer.

He shirked off his traveling cloak, and laid it across an armchair in the corner of the room, rather than bothering to put it away properly. He then climbed under the covers of the bed and gently pulled Maliah into his arms. She gave a bit of a whine before resettling onto his chest without waking up. He lightly tucked back the strands of her dark hair that had fallen, partially covering her face.

She looked entirely relaxed and peaceful. He did not look forward to telling her the news, but couldn't hide it from her either.

For the first two years of Carina's life they didn't live anywhere for more than a couple of months. They had lived for the fleeting moments of bliss that interrupted the ever-present paranoia of their lives. There had been a constant fear that someone would somehow link them to their past, ruining everything they held dear.

As if hiding from Voldemort and his followers wouldn't have been stressful enough in its own right, they also had an infant to raise, and no family guidance for how to proceed. Likely nothing else could have brought them closer than the necessary reliance they had on each other during that time.

It wasn't until several months after Voldemort's downfall that they had felt safe enough to settle down more permanently. They initially chose Australia due to its distance from Britain, and resided there for a couple of years.

It was warm, beautiful and the people were kind to them. As wonderful as it had been to just _live_ somewhere without feeling like they were only briefly visiting before moving on to someplace else, Australia had never felt quite like home.

Regulus supposed no place aside from London could have felt like home to him, but considering what his 'home' had actually been like, didn't feel that getting away from it was such a terrible thing. Maliah, who had a much different childhood from him, felt differently.

It was obvious that she was homesick, and while it would have been imprudent to return to Britain, she had spent most of her holidays as a child in France. Hopeful to cheer her up, Regulus suggested they relocate there, which she happily agreed to.

The only dilemma they ran into once deciding it safe enough to relocate to France was which part of the country they would live. As the remaining members of her family still had access to their family's vacation home in southern France, living anywhere near there would have been impractical.

Maliah's second choice had been Paris, which Regulus had not been thrilled about either. He had grown up in London, in a townhouse shared with muggles. He and Sirius had never been allowed to fly broomsticks outside-they had rarely been allowed outside, period. For all of their parent's anti-muggle sentiments, they had lived amongst them and had to hide their magic even more so because of it.

Regulus' only true request in where they lived had been that they choose somewhere private enough that they wouldn't have to constantly worry with the statute of secrecy. That they, and their children, could be themselves in their own house and on their own property. They ended up settling in a fairly remote area in the Rhône-Alpes region, not far from Lyon. They moved there when Caelum was only a few weeks old, Carina had been three. Neither of their children had ever known anyplace else as home.

Now that Voldemort was back, the proximity of France to Britain was weighing heavily on Regulus' mind. He lost track of how much time passed as he laid there, absentmindedly playing with Maliah's hair, while trying to think of how best to protect her, Carina and Caelum.

"Did you sleep at all?" Maliah asked him blearily when she woke up later, at a more reasonable hour than when he had come home.

"I might have dozed off," he answered skeptically.

"He's really back, isn't he?" she asked, now fully awake after reading his mood properly.

Regulus met her gaze, and nodded, "Yes, he is."

Maliah exhaled softly, as she wrapped her arms around him more securely, "What are we going to do?"

While she had been sleeping he had been considering options to answer that very question. Unfortunately none of them were ideal. His favorite involved having them adopt false names and being relocated back to Australia by no later than the next morning. Not wanting to make Maliah more distressed by overreacting (though he wasn't sure if overreacting was truly possible, all things considered), he answered simply,

"We're going to pick up Carina this afternoon in Paris. You'll be able to meet her simpleton boyfriend, before Caelum and I take you and Carina someplace nice to eat."

"Those are the only plans you've made so far?" she asked doubtfully. "I find that hard to believe."

"Of course not. As soon as I can will myself to get out of this bed, I intend to go to Beauxbatons and present my resignation to Madame Maxime, assuming she is back from Hogwarts."

"You love teaching."

"Not as much as I'd love to have more distance than the Channel separating us from Voldemort. Besides, I could probably find another teaching job somewhere else if I wanted to… I'm kind of smart you know."

She smiled wryly, "So, you've told me. I'll bet Hogwarts will need someone in defense. They always do."

Ignoring the elephant in the room, also known as Voldemort's return, he answered dismissively,

"Yes, but I've grown to prefer the warm palace of Beauxbatons over the cold dungeons of Hogwarts. Not to mention everyone in Britain believes I'm dead-except Sirius… I suppose I should mention I ran into him last night at Grimmauld."

Maliah propped herself up on an elbow, her hazel eyes looking at him intently, "How is he?" she asked hesitantly.

"After I found him arguing with my mother's portrait, we had a very brief conversation, in which he confirmed that Voldemort has come back, and that I should leave before he alerted the Ministry of my whereabouts."

"Will he tell anyone you're alive?"

"I don't know. I think he was probably in too much shock to really process it. He seemed a bit… unbalanced." At her look, he smirked, "More so than before. His godson, was somehow involved in Voldemort's rebirth. He was pretty shaken over that…which is understandable," Regulus conceded.

"Is Harry okay?" Maliah asked apprehensively.

Regulus smiled slightly at her use of his first name as if she knew him, "The boy continues to live, it seems. It's a good thing too as I suspect he is about the only thing holding Sirius together. Lupin was at Grimmauld Place with Sirius. I didn't speak to him but by his expression he seemed to have noticed that Sirius is a bit… off."

"Did you tell him why you left?"

Regulus shook his head, "I didn't tell him about you, as you're supposed to be dead too... I did admit that I've been living abroad. While I can't see any reason for why he would link me to France in particular, it shouldn't matter too much if he does. As I said, we should move farther away from Britain. Madame Maxime knows enough about my past that if she is aware Voldemort is back, she won't be surprised to hear I wish to resign."

Regulus made to sit up in bed, intending to go to Beauxbatons so that he could find out whether the headmistress had returned from Hogwarts yet. His efforts were impeded by Maliah, who had hastily climbed on top of him and was now straddling his waist,

"I don't think you've considered all of your options."

Regulus' hands moved instinctively to her hips. Looking her over appreciatively, he smirked, "And what other options do I have?"

"Beauxbatons is a fortress. There is optional housing there for all of the professors and their spouses. Carina is already a student. Caelum will begin there this year. Besides, we can't just pull them out of school."

"They can go to school elsewhere, or be tutored. We would be little more than prisoners of the school if we were reliant on its protections-" he began, though his argument was lost as Maliah suddenly shifted her position.

"Moving to Beauxbatons is only a contingency plan," she whispered in his ear. "We wouldn't move unless our survival became known, and in that case, few other places would be safe for any of us," she said as she began kissing his neck.

"At which point, I would be putting the students at risk-" he tried again but was interrupted by Maliah's lips capturing his.

"Let's just get through today," she whispered, pulling his shirt so that it became untucked. "There is plenty of time before the next school year begins for you to give an acceptable notice of resignation- should you decide to."

Regulus nodded slightly before rolling them over so that Maliah was the one on her back, and kissed her more deeply. It wasn't lost on him that she had purposely distracted him from his plans that morning, though for the moment he wasn't particularly bothered by it.

 _Well played_ , he thought absently.

* * *

Sirius sat at the end of the long wooden table in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, trying to keep the scowl from his face. He had contacted Dumbledore that morning, offering Grimmauld Place as headquarters for the Order. Dumbledore had graciously accepted, calling a meeting for that very night.

The meeting had turned into more of a meet and greet than anything, as it seemed little information had been acquired overnight. As small as their number already was, Sirius couldn't help but wonder if any of the members would have shown up for the meeting at all, if they had known the meeting place was to be the Black's ancestral home.

He had initially waited upstairs as the 'guests' trickled in. As such, he had missed the initial reaction of everyone seeing the incredibly unwelcoming and sinister house for the first time. At the start of the meeting Dumbledore had introduced him to the newly reinstated Order of the Phoenix. Despite the headmaster's assurance of his innocence, it seemed few were able to suppress their need to stare at him.

Their expressions ranged from pity to mistrust. He preferred the latter. Among other things, it was obvious that those who had known him before were comparing his current appearance to what it once was. He thought it a bit ridiculous, seeing as he still looked better than most of them.

He supposed any lifelong aspiration his brother might have had to be more attractive than him had finally come to fruition though. Regulus had been shorter in his youth than Sirius had been. He had finally gotten a growth spurt shortly before Sirius had moved out. He hadn't quite grown into his new height the last time Sirius had bothered to look at him properly. Until last night of course.

Sirius no longer towered over his seemingly back from the dead brother. He couldn't even boast that he had reaped all of the good looks from their family's gene pool before Regulus had been conceived, as he used to claim.

As much as he didn't want to care about anything to do with Regulus, he couldn't help but wonder about him. What made him leave the death eaters? How did he do it? What has he been doing for the past fifteen years?

Sirius' attention had faltered during Dumbledore's ramblings, though it seemed the official meeting must have adjourned as light chatter had broken out around him. Naturally no one was bothering to talk to him. The only person that would have was Remus and he was already engaged in a discussion about the once again open Defense against the Dark Arts position with Dumbledore and Moody.

Unless Madam Pomfrey had changed dramatically from his days in school, Sirius couldn't imagine Mad Eye had been released from the infirmary on her recommendation. He looked like death warmed over, and appeared to be even twitchier than was reputed.

"Moody, I daresay we never got off to the right foot with your teaching-"

"You're wasting your breath, Dumbledore. I wasted a year of my life locked in my own trunk by Crouch's doing. I'm not about to waste another year of my time."

"Do you have any other candidates in mind?" Remus inquired.

It was a damn shame Remus couldn't retake the position. Sirius had no doubt he had been a good teacher and he could certainly use the money.

Dumbledore shook his head, "Regretfully, no. I knew when Moody took the post last year that it would only be for one year. In all of this time since then, no one qualified has shown any interest. Madame Maxime and I actually discussed the shortage of good defense professors only this morning."

"It's a shame if the professor at Beauxbatons is inept. Who's to say Voldemort won't take a hop across the pond and try to take over France too?" Moody asked.

"On the contrary, Madame Maxime was most complimentary of the professor who currently holds that position. She is however, anticipating that he might be inclined to resign after this year. She mentioned that his family prefers not stay in one place for very long."

"Oh? In that case, perhaps he would be interested in teaching at Hogwarts then. That is, if he can speak English?" Remus asked hopefully.

"Indeed. Should he in fact choose to resign from Beauxbatons, I shall be inclined to find out more about him." He chuckled, "I daresay Madame Maxime regretted mentioning him to me at all. She wouldn't even tell me his name when I inquired."

"Can't blame her for wanting to keep him if he's good," Mad Eye intoned. "How is Potter holding up?"

"As well as can be expected, though given the circumstances I'm afraid time will be what best allows him to heal. He met with the Diggory's earlier today."

The rest of the room was silent, indicating Sirius wasn't the only one eavesdropping on Dumbledore's conversation. From the corner of his eye, he saw Molly Weasley dab her eyes with a tissue. It was obvious no one wanted to consider what the Diggory's must be going through now- to have lost a child.

"When the term ends, I want Harry to come here," Sirius announced.

"I've already asked if he can stay at the burrow," Molly sniffled. "Professor Dumbledore has said Harry is to return to his aunt and uncle's house."

Sirius fixed her with a cold look. "As I am his godfather, I should think my preferences hold a bit more weight than yours," he answered irritably. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"It is in Harry's best interest to return to his aunt and uncle's house," Dumbledore said gently.

"After everything he has been through, he should be around people who care about him. Not those muggles he lives with. They care nothing about him!"

"As I have said, it is in _Harry's_ best interest to return to his family, Sirius. I understand your concerns, but there are reasons for why he must stay there," at Sirius' mutinous look he added, "Perhaps not for the entire summer, but when the Hogwarts Express arrives in London, Harry is to go with his aunt and uncle to their home," Dumbledore answered sternly. Sirius agreed reluctantly.

The conversation turned to Grimmauld Place and how best to protect it. Dumbledore suggested placing it under the Fidelius Charm with himself as secret keeper.

Sirius had a fleeting thought of Regulus being unable to find his childhood home if he came looking. As much as the idea of his brother staring at the house and being unable to see it amused him; he actually would have found it more appealing to allow Regulus to find out the fated use of Grimmauld Place.

Their parents would be beyond furious to find their house being used as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. What would Regulus' reaction be?

Dumbledore excused himself to perform the charm. Sirius vaguely considered following him out. If the topic of Regulus being alive slipped out then so be it.

What did he expect Dumbledore to do with the information if he told him? If Remus was right about the headmaster being lenient, telling Moody might get better results. It looked to have taken a lot of restraint for him not to have arrested Sirius himself- even with Dumbledore in his ear, insisting upon his innocence.

Did he really hate Regulus enough to want to ruin his life?

Before Sirius had experienced Azkaban firsthand, he would have thrown Regulus in prison without a second thought. After twelve years of having lived there himself, with only his worst memories as company- many of which starred his then believed to be dead brother, he couldn't make up his mind how he felt about Regulus.


	4. Meddlings of Dumbledore

The next few weeks passed in a long-drawn out haze for Sirius. He suspected no one apart from Remus or Harry would willingly visit him. As Harry was inaccessible and Remus had been kept busy with various missions for the Order, he had mostly been left to his own devices.

Without a purpose, he had fallen into a habit of drinking firewhiskey at night and sleeping late into the morning or early afternoon. Regardless of time, he occasionally began his day with breakfast. He hadn't bothered with food at all yesterday, choosing instead to acquire his sustenance in liquid form entirely. As such, he had awoken earlier than usual this morning, compliments of a positively throbbing headache. He knew there were spells that could alleviate the pain, as well as potions, but his memory for how to attain either was failing him at the moment.

Gazing indifferently at the poster above his bed of a blonde muggle, dressed in what could only scarcely be labeled a bikini for all it revealed, Sirius pondered the use of his time recently. Before now the alcohol had been good to him. It had given him something to look forward to, and allowed him to sleep soundly enough to prevent nightmares of his time in Azkaban. After this though, Sirius realized he needed to scale back. He could always transform and sleep as Padfoot if nightmares began to disrupt his natural sleep. If he were honest, he knew potential nightmares had never been his reason for drinking in the first place.

What he really needed was more to do throughout the day. Anything to break up the solitude and monotony of his existence. Peeling himself out of bed, he made his way into the bathroom. He determined the best thing he could do, after relieving himself, was find something to eat. He supposed after breakfast he should clean Buckbeak's room, which he should have already done days ago.

The room Buckbeak resided in had become quite foul. While the smell didn't offend Sirius after having spent so much time in Azkaban, he suspected the other Order members might have less tolerance. He had been reluctant to clean before now as Buckbeak had chosen a rather fitting place to do his business. There was something oddly satisfying in allowing the hippogriff to excrete his bodily waste onto his mother's bed. He thought the best way to demonstrate his approval to Buckbeak was to allow the mess to percolate for as long as he could stand it.

Unfortunately the stench was now beginning to permeate throughout the house, and it wouldn't be long before the next Order meeting was called. His fellow Order members believed him to be mad already, he didn't need to add cause to their suspicions.

As he washed his hands, he realized he had just fulfilled one of only three tasks he had successfully come up with for the day. If he ate breakfast and cleaned Buckbeak's room too quickly he would have nothing left to occupy his time.

Looking around for inspiration, his eyes fell to the other side of the bathroom, to the door that led to Regulus' room. The fourth level of Grimmauld Place had been the Black brothers' domain in their youth. They had freely romped from one another's bedroom without giving it a second thought.

Everything had changed as they had gotten older, of course. The last time Sirius had seen the inside of Regulus' bedroom up close, his nose had nearly been broken from as fiercely as the door had been slammed in his face.

Grimmauld Place was his now. There shouldn't be any part of the house where his presence felt intrusive, yet it did. As bitter as he was about his own misfortune in life, he knew he should be glad his brother hadn't shared his fate. It was for that reason that he realized telling Dumbledore about his survival would be a mistake. And it was for that reason that he couldn't enter his brother's childhood bedroom now.

He didn't want to make judgments about who his brother is based on the person he used to be. He wanted to know what Regulus had done with his second chance in life. Whether he deserved Azkaban or not, Sirius would not be responsible for him being sent there. It wasn't because he deserved it, rather that Sirius had come to an unfortunate conclusion. Not enough things _could_ change for him not to care about Regulus. He was stuck with him as a brother- no matter how reluctant the sentiment was.

As he made his way down the stairs towards the kitchen he heard a knock on the door. He realized with chagrin that the smell of Buckbeak's… indiscretion was particularly strong in the entrance hall. He definitely should have cleaned the room by now, he thought morosely as he pulled open the front door.

"Ah Sirius," Dumbledore greeted. Seemingly catching whiff of the unpleasantness as he walked in, the headmaster balked slightly.

"Err, sorry about that. Infestation of sorts," Sirius remarked blandly.

"I see," Dumbledore answered as he visibly scrutinized his physical appearance. Sirius tried to remember when he had last bathed, but found the recollection to be unworthy of the effort as it only worsened his headache.

"I cannot stay but for a moment. I simply wanted to mention an idea that has occurred to me for you to ponder." Sirius nodded for him to go on. "When the time comes for Harry to leave his aunt and uncle's house, he will need a place to stay. Both you and Molly have expressed you want him to stay with you."

"James and Lily would have wanted him with me. They made that clear when they named me his godfather."

"Harry would not have to choose between you and the burrow at all if, and forgive me for being so bold, the Weasley's lodged here for the summer."

" _All_ of them?" Sirius asked in surprise.

"Arthur, Molly and the children who are still in school. It would include Fred and George, Ron and Ginny. Only if it isn't too much of an imposition, of course."

Sirius shrugged, "I suppose it would be fine."

"Splendid. I think their living here could prove beneficial for everyone."

"And how long before Harry can be with us?"

"I assure you, he will not have to stay with his relatives any longer than is necessary," he answered in a tone that indicated the matter was not open for discussion. "Now, are you agreeable to extending an invitation to the Weasley's to move in here? Or do you need some time to think about it first?"

Sirius shook his head, "There is plenty of room here if they actually _want_ to move in."

"Very well. We can pass along the invitation tonight. That reminds me, the next Order meeting is to be this evening." From his robes, he withdrew a pocket watch, which apparently told him the time despite its lack of numbers. "I must be going," he said, as he pulled open the front door. "I'll see you tonight."

Sirius made his way back up the steps to his mother's room as soon as Dumbledore was gone. Despite being magical, he had a feeling it would take a while for Buckbeak's mess to air out entirely.

At least the Order meeting gave him something to halfway look forward to, though he was already second guessing the wisdom of allowing the Weasley's to move in. He found he had a love-hate relationship with his solitude. As lonely as Grimmauld Place was, he did actually like to be left alone most of the time.

* * *

The beginning of the summer holiday was filled with an incessant amount of grading, end of year celebrations, commencement ceremonies for the seventh years and a banquet for the faculty. With all of that over, Regulus could enjoy some time off. At least, that should be the case. Apart from the absence of Madame Maxime, little had changed at Beauxbatons, yet Regulus felt far from able to relax.

Madame Maxime had been anticipated to return two weeks ago. The directeur adjoint, Professeur Deschamps, who was the equivalent of Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts, had been filling in during her absence this year.

Once learning Madame Maxime's return had been delayed, Regulus questioned him regarding when she could be expected to return. He received a vague 'sometime before the start of next term' answer in response. Given Deschamps' general air of self-importance, Regulus took that to mean the headmistress hadn't given him a definite timeline, and he couldn't simply admit that he didn't know.

Being outside of Britain, they were unable to receive _The Daily Prophet_ by owl every day. Years ago, at Maliah's request, Regulus had managed to arrange for a week's worth of the newspaper to be sent to them each Sunday. While much of it was old news by the time they received it, it didn't deter Maliah from thoroughly examining the pages each week.

Regulus generally only glimpsed, _The Prophet,_ for anything interesting as he preferred wizarding France's daily newspaper, _L'actualité._ While reading about what happened a week ago in a different country apart from where they lived was a bit nonsensical in his opinion, Regulus could understand Maliah's reasons for doing so. Regretfully, since Voldemort's return, he found himself perusing the British newspaper perhaps even more carefully than Maliah habitually did.

Aside from a small article stating that Harry Potter had won the Triwizard tournament, nothing else about him nor Voldemort had been written in his first deliveries of the paper since the end of term. The French newspaper had become far less interested in the tournament when it was discovered Fleur wasn't favored to win. There hadn't even been an announcement when the tournament ended, much less who won.

Just because the newspapers weren't printing anything about the tournament didn't mean there was a shortage of rumors. According to the students who had been present at the Triwizard Tournament, the other Hogwarts champion aside from Harry Potter had been killed in the last event of the tournament.

Also according to rumors, Madame Maxime had not yet returned to France because she nor Karkaroff were allowed to leave Britain until a thorough investigation could be completed on the incident regarding the death of the other Hogwarts champion.

Regulus thought Madame Maxime being held against her will to be unlikely. Aside from it requiring abysmal judgment at best to suspect her of resorting to murder for her school to win a meaningless tournament, she rarely did anything that displeased her.

Karkaroff on the other hand, well there was no doubt he needed to be investigated. Whoever had hired him as headmaster Regulus hoped would be publicly reprimanded when Karkaroff's past was uncovered. Karkaroff didn't belong anywhere near children in his opinion.

He knew he shouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions. Madame Maxime had certainly been taking a chance when she hired him. Undoubtedly, many from his past would argue that she had made a mistake in doing so for many of the same reasons he had against Karkaroff.

Still, Regulus had spent the last seven years cramming as much as he could into the Beauxbatons' Defense coursework, a class Durmstrang no longer offered in lieu of teaching the dark arts themselves. Durmstrang didn't even admit muggleborn students. Regulus suspected their situations were quite different.

Karkaroff's position hardly mattered at this point. Voldemort's return undoubtedly meant the headmaster's life expectancy would be cut short. From what Regulus had read, Karkaroff had given up the names of quite a few of Voldemort's followers in exchange for keeping himself out of Azkaban.

Even if Voldemort forgave Karkaroff of his transgressions, it was unlikely the death eaters who spent the last thirteen years in prison on his information would. It was only a matter of time now before Voldemort would have his most loyal followers released from Azkaban. If Voldemort hadn't dealt with Karkaroff by then, there would be little hesitation before those currently imprisoned death eaters 'accidently' served him his comeuppance.

Regulus' disloyalty had been intended solely for Voldemort, rather than at his fellow death eaters. He wasn't naïve enough to think that would make a difference. Voldemort nor his followers would take kindly to his freedoms over the past fifteen years. He couldn't decide if Voldemort or Bellatrix's rage would be worse.

As Regulus couldn't see anyone bothering to investigate Madame Maxime with the likes of Karkaroff running about, he did wonder what the holdup for her return really was. It was making it difficult for him to resign from his post as the DADA professor.

Naturally Maliah was happy about the setback, going so far as to say Madame Maxime's absence was telling that he shouldn't resign at all. She much preferred the idea of making small adjustments, such as adding more security to their house and taking more precautions while in public, rather than uprooting the family and disrupting their lives entirely.

Unsurprisingly, Carina had been asking to have friends over to swim as she did every summer. Not wanting to interrupt their kids' normal lives before they had to, Maliah tried to convince Regulus to postpone his plans of strengthening the protections on their home until after her birthday.

To compromise, they were celebrating her birthday early, with her friends coming over that evening. Regulus intended to further increase the security on their home as soon as they left. It would be much more difficult for anyone to call on them once he finished with the added protection.

"Dad, you aren't going to be mean to Andrae, are you?" Carina asked over brunch.

"When have I ever been mean to him?" Regulus asked innocently.

Carina gave him a piercing look that would have left no one with any doubt of who her mother was. Rather than be intimidated, Regulus couldn't help but crack a smile at the similarities between the ladies of the Black household. In effort to hide the real reason of his amusement though, he turned his expression into more of a smirk,

"How many people are coming to this birthday party of yours, anyway?"

Carina covered her face with her hands in exasperation, "Dad! This isn't a _birthday_ _party_! Why would you call it that?"

"You're having friends over to swim- on the pretense of it being for your birthday?" he asked with feigned confusion.

"Yes, but that in itself is not grounds to constitute it being a _birthday party_. If I were turning five then it would be okay to call it that. I am going to be fifteen! I do _not_ have birthday parties anymore, nor did I last year or any other year since I was… I don't know. Seven?"

"But Kreacher is making a cake," Regulus answered drolly.

Her eyes widened, "No. No, he isn't. No cake. We can have cake _on_ my birthday, just the four of us- not today. My birthday isn't for another two and a half weeks anyway. It's much too early for cake."

"Kreacher will be disappointed," Regulus answered with a twinge of genuine sadness. Kreacher had actually already been informed that Carina didn't want a cake for today. That didn't make Regulus any less unhappy that his daughter was growing up so quickly.

Seeing in his peripheral that an owl was headed towards the window, Regulus walked over and raised the glass. After untying the letter and offering the owl some water and bacon, Regulus returned to his seat beside Carina.

Normally he would have waited to read the letter, rather than doing so at the table, but recognizing the handwriting as Madame Maxime's, he didn't waste any time in tearing open the envelope.

The letter started out apologetic in that she was not able to speak to him in person. With expressions like an 'old foe has returned,' he thought she was trying to warn him of Voldemort's rebirth. He wasn't sure he would have been able to decipher that from her message if he hadn't already heard the news.

She casually mentioned that Dumbledore was quite desperate to find a DADA professor for Hogwarts, but that he should not be getting any ideas about leaving. She reminded him he could not resign from his position even if he wanted to, until after she returned, and that would not be for several more weeks.

As Madame Maxime knew he had even less motivation now than ever to return to Britain, he thought he understood her true reasoning for writing it. Aside from secretly trying to warn him about Voldemort's return, she openly advised him against trying to leave Beauxbatons. Resignation from there would likely be seen as an invitation for Dumbledore to try to contact him.

He wished Maliah was home so that he could show the letter to her, but as it sounded like she and Madame Maxime were likeminded on the future of his teaching career, the letter likely wasn't going to do him any favors.

"May I be excused?" Carina asked hopefully as Regulus was busy skimming the letter again.

"Sorry, but no," he answered as he folded the letter and tucked it away in his pocket. "You have barely touched any of your breakfast yet. Though I can't say that I blame you," he amended as he looked over her plate distastefully. "In a country renowned for its cuisine, could you have chosen nothing better than stale bread and cheese to eat?"

Carina smirked as she reached for her bowl of hot chocolate and immediately plunged her baguette into the hot drink, "You would think it delicious if you weren't so stubbornly British."

"Resist peer pressure, Carina. Don't conform to-" Regulus stopped when he realized his efforts were futile. Instead he watched with mild revulsion as his daughter took a bite of the soggy bread, and began chewing it with relish.

He could acknowledge that the people of France loved their bread. He had grown accustomed to seeing some of the most otherwise refined students of Beauxbatons enjoying said bread dipped in hot chocolate or coffee, and even using it to mop up the remnants of a particularly good dish on occasion.

None of that bothered him for he had long accepted that the French and British had their own unique customs. He believed these differences derived from one's upbringing though. Carina had certainly not been raised in a household where 'bread dunking' at meal time was considered normal practice.

"Mm, good," Carina remarked between bites. Leaning back in her seat with an expression of utmost satisfaction, she happily munched on the sopping bread.

If Regulus held any residual pride in the propriety of his own upbringing, he was certain it had just died. He shook his head ruefully, "I'll take your word for it."

Carina in turn looked over the remnants of bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast in front of him. After swallowing her 'soggy' bread, she indicated his plate teasingly, "Perhaps you should try cutting back to only bread and cheese, bouboule. That's quite the feast for every day, isn't it?"

"Ah yes. Bread, cheese and hot chocolate… the epitome of health," he answered wryly.

Carina sniggered as she casually dipped more bread into her chocolate. "Where is everyone else, anyway?" she asked.

"Your mother took Caelum shopping-"

Carina's head snapped up instantly at that, "What? Why didn't she take me?"

"She wanted to get a head start on buying things for Caelum to start Beauxbatons…" _Because she thought if Caelum had his stuff already it would deter me from wanting to move,_ he added silently.

"It was felt that if you had gone with them, you would have monopolized the day…. You also have your friends coming over to get ready for."

Carina's disheartened look improved slightly at that, "Now, was that so hard to say?"

"Instead of referring to it as a birthday party, you mean?" he asked with a smirk.

Carina closed her eyes and shook her head, "Call it whatever you want away from my friends, just _please_ don't call it _that_ in front of any of them. Actually, if you want to take Caelum when he gets back and leave for the rest of-"she began hopefully but stopped when she saw his expression. "Please don't be intentionally embarrassing," she whined. "It's bad enough you are a teacher at my school."

"Ouch. I was of the impression I was well liked amongst the students," Regulus answered mildly.

"Sure, when they only have to see you once or twice a week in class. If you were their dad though…" Carina gave a shudder.

Regulus smirked, though his reply was forgotten as the doorbell rang.

Carina jumped up in alarm, "Why are they here so early?"

Knowing Kreacher was outside ensuring the pool was in suitable condition for guests, Regulus stood with the intent of answering the door. Glancing at his watch he remarked, "I doubt it's any of your friends as they generally arrive by floo."

"Andrae isn't. Since he's never been here before, he said it would be rude for him to show up directly inside our house at an approximated time, rather than patiently awaiting an invitation to enter after first knocking on the front door."

Regulus pursed his lips. Grudgingly, he could appreciate the sentiment, but he certainly wasn't going to compliment him easily.

"Arriving by floo at the time one is invited to do so would be far less imposing than turning up outside the front door four hours early," he answered halfheartedly as he made his way towards the entrance hall.

Turning back, Regulus caught sight of Carina hastily grab for an unused spoon lying on the table and proceed to anxiously look herself over using the back of it. Regulus felt his heart soften slightly at the sight. She likely would have been sensible enough to ask him to conjure a decent mirror for her to use, had she not been so flustered.

"I'm sure it's not him, Carina," he told her gently. "But it won't hurt him to have to wait on you, if it is." When she made no effort to move, and was instead watching him warily, he prodded, "Go upstairs and get ready. He'll be fine with me for a few minutes."

"You will be nice… won't you?" Carina asked hesitantly.

"Only because it's your birthday," he teased before making his way to the front door. He saw Carina smile briefly, before scurrying up the stairs as he turned away


	5. Meeting with Dumbledore

Any humor Regulus found in talking with Carina was quickly lost upon seeing who had knocked. The man was standing in the yard, serenely looking over the garden. His long, silver beard made him easy to recognize even at a distance. Albus Dumbledore.

Noticing his arrival at the door, Dumbledore began waking towards him.

Regulus cast a quick spell to prevent Carina from coming outside before going to meet him in the yard. He wanted to keep him as far away from the house as possible.

Something akin to shock flickered in Dumbledore's expression as he recognized him.

"Regulus Black," he observed.

Regulus vaguely wondered how feasible it would've been to convince Dumbledore that he was someone else, perhaps even a distant relative of Sirius given their obvious physical similarities. In truth, walking outside to greet the Hogwarts headmaster hadn't been one of his brightest ideas. He was more annoyed than concerned about it at the moment.

"What are you doing here?" Regulus asked, not wasting time with formalities.

"I suppose my being here comes as quite the surprise for you," Dumbledore said. "While at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, Madame Maxime mentioned that her Defense against the Dark Arts professor might wish to resign after this past school year. We, at Hogwarts, are once again in need of a Defense professor. I had business at Beauxbatons this morning, and so while there, I inquired about you. After hearing your name... I had to come see for myself."

"Madame Maxime gave you my address on a whim that I _might_ wish to resign?" He asked, knowing perfectly well she wouldn't give that piece of information to anyone.

"It is my understanding Madame Maxime is still out of the country. I was directed to Monsieur Deschamps. He was kind enough to tell me where I could find you."

He would be having a talk with Deschamps the next time he saw him.

"Have you any inclination as to why Madame Maxime thought you might want to leave Beauxbatons?" Dumbledore asked carefully.

"I tend not to get too comfortable in any one place for long."

Dumbledore's eyes, which had scarcely left his face before then, began roaming the property, lingering on the house momentarily before returning to his face again, "You seem to have made yourself quite comfortable here."

"I have no more attachment here than I do anywhere else," he lied easily.

"Ah, what a shame that is," Dumbledore answered regretfully.

"Why's that?"

"When you've lived as long as I have, you realize it's the people who surround you that make life worth living." He paused. "Madame Maxime spoke very highly of you. She said the students particularly enjoy your classes."

"I wonder what she will say about you coming here then."

Dumbledore chuckled, "Oh, I expect she will have much to say about that."

Rather abruptly, he said, "From my understanding, you were involved with Maliah Bones at the time of your disappearance." Regulus raised an eyebrow but otherwise kept his expression neutral. "Regretfully, it is believed that she was killed not long after that."

Regulus felt bile rise in his throat as his mind involuntarily recalled the night they faked Maliah's murder. He had forgone conjuring the dark mark, and instead focused his efforts on making the 'murder scene' convincingly grisly. Without any other suspects, it had inevitably been blamed on death eaters, even without the emerald snake in the sky. As the Bones family was being heavily targeted by Voldemort and his followers by then, there was little reason to question it.

Considering Dumbledore's mention of his current wife, it seemed someone, likely Maliah's father before his own death, had informed him that their relationship had been more long-standing than most knew. Regulus could think of no other reason why Dumbledore would have felt the need to ask about her.

"Things like that happen sometimes," he answered coolly.

Disappointment etched Dumbledore's features briefly, though he made no further reference to the Bones family or Regulus' blasé reaction to Maliah's death.

Instead he strode back to the garden. Regulus followed him cautiously. The garden, all of their landscape in fact, was distinctly muggle. Maliah distrusted magical plants around their children, just as her own parents had when she was young.

Somehow Regulus Black, the assumed to be unattached, former heir of the Black family and death eater, having a carefully groomed muggle garden seemed to perplex Dumbledore.

Regulus awaited his next comment with dread. It didn't come.

"You know I once vowed I would never allow a former death eater to teach Defense, yet here I find myself trying to recruit a second one in two years."

"Who was the first?" Regulus asked curiously.

"I suppose I should be inclusive, in which case the first was Severus Snape, who I interviewed for the position many years ago. He was instead offered the post of potions master, which he happily accepted and has taught for the past fourteen years."

Regulus had his doubts about Snape's 'happy' acceptance. He had always been brilliant at brewing, there was no question of that. But from what Dumbledore had just implied, Snape was shunned from the position he actually applied for and instead assigned to something different entirely. That likely wouldn't sit well with most people.

He was surprised Snape would want to teach at all, having gotten along with such few people in school the first time around. He doubted the next generation would find him much more tolerable in a teaching capacity.

Regulus was fortunate not to have a former reputation to overcome at Beauxbatons as Snape would at Hogwarts. Being in France, the Black surname did little more than identify him as being of English descent. It also seemed that he was charismatic enough, when he wanted to be, that most people actually liked him. That is, when their opinions weren't influenced by his familial ties- which they always would be in Britain.

How did Snape come to be at Hogwarts to begin with? Dumbledore already admitted he knew he had been a death eater at least at one time, and it wasn't as if it would have taken much for anyone to guess, considering the few people he had gravitated towards in school.

"Last year I hired the retired auror, Alastor Moody to teach the class," Dumbledore continued. "However, due to a series of unforeseen circumstances, the classes were actually taught by one, Barty Crouch Jr., who managed to impersonate Alastor throughout the school year."

"Crouch Jr. is alive?" Regulus asked, too surprised by the revelation to sound disinterested. He remembered reading that Barty had died in Azkaban years ago.

"Indeed, he is alive," Dumbledore answered. Something in the headmaster's demeanor seemed to relax slightly at his admitted ignorance of Crouch's fate. He couldn't blame him considering their past affiliations and that they had both been believed dead until very recently.

"I'm afraid the Crouch heir has since had the misfortune of encountering an overly zealous dementor, which has rendered him, for lack of a better word- soulless," Dumbledore added solemnly.

It seemed the headmaster was intent to dangle just enough information for him to want to know more. Fortunately, he wasn't desperate enough for details to completely lose his air of indifference about all things British.

"If this is your pitch for recruiting new teachers, it's no wonder you have openings," he remarked dryly.

To his surprise, Dumbledore chuckled. "I can see your point," he conceded.

Dumbledore cast a furtive glance at his left arm before his eyes settled back on his face, "I think it likely, you have means to know already... Voldemort has managed to return to a human body."

"I left the death eaters before he 'died' the first time around," Regulus said defensively. "If he knew I was alive I would be dead."

"May I ask what caused you to defect from the death eaters?"

Regulus grimaced inwardly. Reliving his last days as a death eater wasn't a favorite past-time of his. There had been countless moments of doubt regarding his decision to join. As much as he tried to ignore it, that doubt had been there from the beginning. He had found it extremely irritating that his subconscious wouldn't allow him to complete his assignments from the dark lord without lingering feelings of guilt. Interestingly, the metaphorical voice in his head had initially sounded like Sirius, only to change to Maliah's as their relationship progressed. Perhaps due to years of ignoring Sirius, he found ignoring Maliah's disapproval to be much more difficult.

It wasn't long after leaving Hogwarts that his doubts really began to congeal. Voldemort asked to 'borrow' a house elf one night, with the intent of leaving Kreacher for dead. By the time Regulus had worked out that Voldemort made a horcrux, it was only the desire to protect those closest to him that kept him from denouncing Voldemort openly.

Presuming his life expectancy to be short anyway, he was determined to ensure his death was on his own terms. Some blow to the dark lord, regardless of how meager was infinitely better than being killed while dressed in death eater garb, and hidden behind a mask. Though the mask was at least fitting, as he could by then acknowledge he was fighting for the wrong side in the war. He had learned far too much about Voldemort to truly support him.

Regulus pondered Dumbledore's question a moment. Ultimately, it had been the horcrux that he had been willing to sacrifice himself to destroy. Unfortunately, his knowledge that Voldemort had created one would give the impression that he had been more prominent in his role as a death eater. He thought it to be in his best interest to portray having the most diminutive role possible.

He accepted years ago that his school sorting had not been a fluke. He was far too self-serving for heroics, and was loyal only to a handful of people. He was more concerned for his family than anyone else. Maliah nor their children would ever step foot in Britain if he had anything to say about it. In fact, getting them out of Europe was looking more appealing by the moment. He reasoned that if Dumbledore already knew how Voldemort returned, then there was really nothing more he could add to the quest anyway. Maybe it was harsh, but the people of Britain were on their own as far as he was concerned.

"I was just a kid when I joined. I didn't know what I was getting myself into … once I learned the extent of things… of what Voldemort was willing to do, I realized his beliefs and my own were far apart. I left as quickly as an opportunity presented itself." It was the truth. He _had_ been an idiotic kid when he joined them, and he had certainly underestimated what would be asked of him. "Have you any idea how he managed to return?" Regulus asked, realizing he should be curious.

"I was just going to ask you the same question," the headmaster answered evasively. Regulus kept his expression neutral. His instincts were telling him that Dumbledore already knew, or at least suspected, how he had done it. He was clearly not going to confide in him in any case.

"Necromancy isn't something I've ever felt the need to study," he answered.

"And you have no intention of returning to Britain?"

"None," he answered firmly.

"Would it make a difference if I detailed how we could keep you safe-?"

Regulus shook his head, "It isn't as safe as being thought dead."

"It's my understanding that, despite your birth order, you were the intended heir of the Black family. Has this remained the case, or did your presumed death cause primogeniture to win out after all?"

 _Why would Dumbledore care about his or Sirius' inheritance?_ He wondered.

"Everything of the Black estate is Sirius' as far as I'm concerned."

"Does he know you're alive?"

"The escaped mass murderer, do you mean? No, I didn't think to contact him."

"Sirius is innocent," Dumbledore said emphatically. "It was recently brought to my attention that he was not the Potter's secret keeper, but Peter Pettigrew. It was Pettigrew who betrayed them. He then staged a confrontation with your brother, killed the muggles in the street and then transformed into his animagus form - a rat. He disappeared into the sewers."

Regulus hadn't moved since the mention of Pettigrew. He knew instinctively Sirius had been innocent. He hadn't known for certain that Pettigrew was responsible."

"Just as you must be glad to learn of Sirius' innocence, I expect he would be glad to know about you- that you're alive, left the death eaters... doing well."

"Considering the different paths we each chose in life and where they led us… I rather doubt it would be a happy reunion."

"It would mean a lot to him to know," Dumbledore insisted. "Both that you're alive and that you've changed."

Regulus averted his eyes, "He'll be given a trial then, right? You know he's innocent. You have the influence - you can see to it that he gets a fair trial and has his name cleared."

"It is not that simple. The Minister is currently in denial of Voldemort's return. With there being so little evidence of it, and it primarily being me who has spread the word, a smear campaign has been started against me. Suffice to say, any influence I've had is quickly waning."

"There must be something you can do. Reason that if Sirius is captured, he could be questioned under veritaserum. They should be happy to question him if they believe him to be Voldemort's right-hand man. He'd have valuable insight to those fighting his regime."

"I would not trust them to uphold their end of the bargain, even if they agreed to that."

It was true the ministry couldn't be trusted, they were incompetent on a good day and it was only a matter of time before they would be infiltrated. Regulus furrowed his brow in concentration, trying to think of another avenue that could help."

Dumbledore gave him a meaningful look. "Perhaps what would help Sirius most right now, is support from those of us who know he is innocent."

"Trust me, Sirius would not want me around."

"It would certainly be a surprise for him to find you alive after all these years," Dumbledore said pensively. "I couldn't say how he would handle it at first. I expect, in the end, he would take all the help he could get when it comes to protecting his godson. He was involved in Voldemort's rebirth, after all."

"How's the Potter boy handling everything?"

"He's with his aunt and uncle now," Dumbledore answered simply. "You would have him in class if you accepted the position at Hogwarts," he said wryly. He then took out the most useless pocket watch Regulus could imagine. As if what he had seen on the watch somehow made sense, he was ready to leave rather abruptly.

"Regulus," he said, offering his hand to shake. "I'm sorry to hear you are not interested in the position. If you change your mind, owl me immediately. I hate to think who the ministry will deem to be an appropriate teacher in the current climate if I can't find someone."

"I wouldn't wait for my owl," Regulus advised.

Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "Be that as it may, I am glad to see you're alive and… perhaps more open-minded than before."

Regulus walked with him to the edge of the property. He was relieved Maliah and Caelum were nowhere in sight.

"I think Sirius too would be glad to know these things about you," Dumbledore said before bidding him 'goodbye' and disapparating.


	6. Road Trip

Regulus was lounged in the sitting area of his and Maliah's bedroom, pouring over the latest editions of _The Prophet._ It was late enough that Carina and Caelum were both in their beds, though he suspected only pretending to be asleep. Carina would be writing letters to her friends, or more likely Andrae; Caleum still trying to acclimate to his new wand.

France recognized a restriction against underage sorcery just as Britain did. In both countries the means used to detect underage magic was largely ineffective for any student who wasn't muggleborn. It was taken for granted that parents would enforce the restriction in their homes.

True to his upbringing, Regulus believed the restriction to be more of a guideline than rule and unnecessary in all situations excluding public conversation. Their children had been allowed to practice basic spells well before turning eleven. They were also allowed to carry wands in the house so long as they were responsible with the privilege. And they didn't have guests over.

It had been a day since Dumbledore turned up outside their home. Maliah had been surprisingly unfazed by the development, believing their biggest concern should have been that he could have Regulus arrested on suspicion of being a death eater. Given the recently started campaign to discredit the headmaster, his word likely didn't have enough clout to convince anyone Regulus was alive, much less have him arrested. He had also offered him a teaching position, suggesting it wasn't Dumbledore's intention to make trouble for him.

The wards surrounding their estate had been cranked up to near Grimmauld Place standard immediately following the departure of Carina's friends. Regulus wasn't particularly concerned about anyone being able to call on them with the improved protections, but saw no reason to risk Maliah or their kids by staying there in the immediate future just in case. They were leaving in the morning for a holiday with no definite timeline or itinerary.

The bathroom door opened, drawing Regulus' attention away from the newspaper to Maliah. He watched with interest as she made her way across the room clad in only a towel. He had to refocus his attention a moment later as Kreacher took that moment to apparate into the space between them.

Maliah smirked at him before scurrying back to the bathroom, pajamas in hand.

"Kreacher," Regulus greeted resignedly as the house elf turned and caught sight of Maliah closing the bathroom door behind her.

"Mistress," he squawked, horrified, as he recalled a previous request she had made- not to apparate directly into their bedroom. He reached for a book from the table. Regulus was faster, moving it out of his reach. Kreacher immediately turned and made his way towards the dresser. Regulus blocked his attempt to smash his fingers in the drawer.

"It's okay, Kreacher. There's no reason to punish yourself. You just forgot."

"Yes, Kreacher forgot," he answered thickly, "but Kreacher should not be able to forget his orders."

Regulus tried not to dwell on the truth of his statement. He was getting to be rather old for a house elf which may have contributed to his forgetfulness- but then it only seemed to be Maliah's orders he ever had trouble remembering.

"Be that as it may, I forbid you to punish yourself."

"Master is too kind," he mumbled miserably. He was many things, but only Kreacher would ever consider overly kind to be one of them, Regulus thought wryly.

"I presume that you are here to tell me everything is ready for our departure in the morning?"

Kreacher nodded, his ears flopping back and forth, "Everything is packed and ready for whenever you are."

"Thank you."

"Kreacher lives to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," he answered emphatically as he arched his back into a deep bow. After ensuring there wasn't anything else for him to do, Kreacher bid Regulus goodnight, bowed one last time and popped away.

Regulus thought back to the conversation he had with Kreacher the night before. On a whim, he'd sent the house elf to check out Grimmauld Place, careful not to be seen. Kreacher admitted that while looking around he'd become sidetracked from his mission when he realized how many things had gone missing from the family's collections.

He had been distraught looking for them when Order members began filing into the kitchen near to where he stood. He managed to hide inside a cupboard without being seen, a decision that had proven interesting. He learned the Black ancestral home had been named headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix and was now protected by a Fidelius Charm; Dumbledore was secret keeper.

Between being turned into headquarters for the Order and Arthur Weasley and his family being invited to move in with Sirius, it was no wonder why so many of his family's 'collectibles' had been purged from Grimmauld Place.

Regulus had been more interested in what he learned about Harry Potter- and Sirius. He had already known from Dumbledore that the Potter boy was living with his muggle relatives. What was interesting was that the Order had instigated an around the clock watch duty for him. He wondered why they didn't just relocate him to Grimmauld Place if they were worried of an attack. Not only would it keep the boy protected, but the presence of James Potter's son would surely help to improve Sirius' mood. At least, it couldn't make it any worse.

Perhaps if he had gotten the impression that the muggles treated the boy well, he could understand Sirius, his rightful guardian, allowing it. If he missed his family after nearly a year of being away from them, then spending his summer with his aunt and uncle would make more sense than with his escaped-from-prison godfather. According to Kreacher, every one of the Order who knew of the Dursley family spoke of them with disdain.

Allowing the boy to stay with people who cared about him was bound to make recovering from his recent ordeal more bearable. It would also give Sirius a much needed distraction from being stuck inside Grimmauld Place. For that matter, why was Sirius confining himself there in the first place?

He could admit he felt some idle curiosity about the boy. Mostly, he had an inexplicable need to find out why his brother had lost sight of what should be most important to him. Why was he allowing his godson, who happened to have the largest target on his back from Voldemort, to be left amongst muggles who couldn't protect him?

His thoughts were interrupted by Maliah a moment later as she emerged from the bathroom.

"What is it?" she asked, noticing his preoccupation on her way to the armchair beside his.

"I was thinking... It just doesn't make sense."

"Harry Potter?" she guessed.

Regulus nodded, though he knew it wasn't exactly the boy that bothered him. "Sirius was named Harry's godfather. He should have custody over him, yet he is allowing him to live with muggles who mistreat him?"

"Kreacher didn't actually say that Harry was mistreated by his muggle relatives, only that no one in the Order seems to like them."

Regulus looked at her skeptically, "If this were a decade ago and Kreacher had eavesdropped on my mother and her usual gaggle of gossip-mongers over tea it would be one thing. It was a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius, Lupin, Arthur Weasley, Molly- formerly a Prewett, and Professor McGonagall, some of the biggest muggle sympathizers around. All of them said it would be better for Potter to be relocated to Grimmauld Place rather than left with his relatives."

"If Dumbledore believes Harry staying with them is for the best, you can't expect many of the Order to stand against his plans."

Regulus clenched his jaw, as a vision of a Sirius sitting filthy and broken in a prison cell involuntarily crossed his mind, "Dumbledore doesn't always know best."

When he didn't elaborate, Maliah quirked an eyebrow,

"You asked Kreacher to listen in on the next Order meeting."

It was a statement rather than a question, but he knew she wanted to know why anyway.

He shrugged lightly, "It's good to know what they are up to."

"Mm," she answered vaguely. Regulus looked at her to find she was already watching him intently. "Yet, you want nothing to do with what is going on in Britain?"

"After a decade and a half away, now is hardly the time to take a more active role, though I see nothing wrong with keeping informed. Any drivel printed in _The Prophet_ will be more meaningless than ever now that Voldemort is back."

"What is there to be gained from listening in on their meetings when they don't know anything more than we do?"

"They are bound to learn more at some point," Regulus answered. It was also a way to keep an eye on Sirius. Leaning his head back against the chair, he braced himself slightly before adding, "I am curious to learn more about the Potter boy and his living conditions... If Sirius is concerned about him but stuck at Grimmauld Place... I almost feel obligated to check on him myself."

He chanced a glance at Maliah to find her eyebrows much too near her hairline for comfort, and elaborated quickly, "He is Sirius' responsibility, yet Sirius is allowing him to stay someplace he doesn't approve of. It sounds like everyone who knows of the Dursley's believe them to be at least neglectful of Harry, if not actually abusing. Considering what he's been through recently, I can't think of too many things worse for him than neglect. And what if it is worse than that? He can't use magic to defend himself in a muggle neighborhood without alerting the Ministry."

"I love you, Regulus, but you hate muggles. Don't you think you might be jumping to conclusions?"

"I don't... how I feel about muggles has nothing to do with it," he objected.

"But it's quite the conspiracy theory. Muggle or not, he is living with Lily Evans' sister. Whether either of us got along with her or not, I can't imagine anyone raised by the same parents would allow a child to be mistreated. Besides, it's Harry Potter! Do you really think 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' would be allowed to grow up any place that wasn't carefully monitored to ensure his safety? Sirius probably wants him out of there because they've draped him in bubble wrap and he's bored," she said half-jokingly.

"Bubble wrap?" Regulus asked in bemusement, before deciding to address the rest of her opposition, "I don't _hate_ muggles."

"Perhaps it really is more of a matter of Harry being nearly fifteen and Sirius wanting a chance to corrupt him before he goes back to school," she attempted to smile, though any humor was lost on Regulus.

"That'll prove difficult while Sirius remains hostage inside Grimmauld Place… his own house. It's like he left his pride inside Azkaban when he broke out."

Maliah scoffed, "Alright, so by some chance say that you are right… what do you intend to do about any of it?"

"It shouldn't be a big deal. I suppose I'll just swing by the kid's uncle's place and check on him. If everything seems in order then that'll be the end of it."

Maliah looked at him for a moment to ensure he was being serious. When it was clear he was, she remarked carefully, "It will be more difficult than just swinging by. The Order has established a guard duty, as I'm sure you remember."

Regulus smirked, "You've forgotten how inept most wizards are at blending into muggle society. I am not plagued by such incompetence, I won't be suspicious."

"What difference does that make? If his neighborhood is warded-"

"Exactly. It is a neighborhood that the Order is staking out around Potter's uncle's house. A house inhabited by muggles can only be protected enough not to impede its muggle occupants. Even less warding can be done when there are other muggles in the neighborhood to consider. Besides, the Order members on guard duty are seemingly free to come and go as they please- so long as I am disguised and acting as any other ignorant muggle, I won't draw any extra attention."

"And what business would you have snooping around an unfamiliar neighborhood?"

"Could I not be in search of a new home?" he asked innocently. "There's bound to be at least one for sale."

Maliah gave him an ironic look, "You actually might be in need of a new home if you intend to go through with something as ill-thought out as this. What if there aren't any houses for sale? What if you are recognized? What if Voldemort breaks through the wards and comes for Harry while you are there?"

"I'll use compulsion to convince a neighbor to put their house on the market," he answered unconcernedly. "Memory charms for anyone who dares recognize me and if Voldemort comes- I'll alight his arse in fiendfyre. It's been a dream of mine for quite some time now, didn't you know?"

"Fiendfyre. Just like that- of course," Maliah answered sardonically. "It's a shame no one thought to do that fifteen years ago."

"Live and learn as they say," Regulus answered, trying not to laugh at her indignation. Gently grabbing for her hand from across the small table that separated them, he added, "If you would help me hash out some of the finer details of a plan, I'm sure we can come up with a sufficient way to check on him that you are more comfortable with."

Maliah stared at their entwined hands for a moment, before meeting his eyes. While she was still skeptical, it was clear that she was also worried his theory could be right and that Harry wasn't being treated well.

"It isn't like you to take such interest in a stranger, Reg. And I know you don't buy into all of the boy-who-lived propaganda.I don't understand why you feel the need to risk checking on him?"

He hesitated before answering, "Sirius... has never been entirely rational, and it obviously has led to him getting in trouble from time to time- stint in Azkaban, case in point. Yet through all of his impulsive… careless… idiotic behavior, he has always been fiercely loyal to his friends. They were his family," Regulus answered, sounding more sad than bitter.

"Since his escape from Azkaban, he is willingly allowing Dumbledore and muggles to dictate how James Potter's son is being raised. It's clear he isn't himself… and well, Harry is an orphan, being raised by muggles. No matter their intent, they can't properly understand him.

"I couldn't keep Sirius out of Azkaban- but I can check up on his godson. I would have figured out a way to do it a decade ago if it hadn't been so widely reported that he was having a happy childhood… What if it were Carina or Caelum?"

Maliah pursed her lips. She was more trusting than he was, but if there were even whispers of an innocent child being mistreated, it wasn't her nature to stand by and do nothing. Rumors did generally begin with a grain of truth, after all.

"It is possible they had a legitimate source from which they received those reports," Maliah answered half-heartedly.

"Maybe, though I suspect that shortly after Voldemort's downfall, any inquiry as to the Potter boy's whereabouts would have been taken as invitation for trouble from the ministry. Few people would have asked about him with any persistence at first for fear of being accused of being a death eater. Those who might have later, would have believed it unnecessary. Dumbledore was said to have known the Potter's wishes were for Harry to be raised by his muggle relatives. Perhaps everyone assumed, as we did, that everything was as it should be when it wasn't."

"And if his living conditions are… less than desirable, what do you intend to do?" Maliah asked apprehensively.

"That'll depend on the conditions," he answered darkly. At Maliah's expression, he added, "I'm probably worried over nothing. I just wanted to check since Sirius can't."

For a moment, Maliah remained quiet. Regulus silently chided himself for telling her his plan to begin with. He could have just done it and avoided giving her more to worry about.

He didn't miss that her words shook slightly when she did speak, or the constrictive feeling in his chest that they triggered,

"Sirius isn't the only one prone to making rash decisions. Maybe you've forgotten about your stint in the cave by now, but believing you are dead is a feeling I'm unlikely to ever forget."

"Nothing like that will happen again," he answered firmly.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, leaving a much more tense silence than what either of them preferred. Maliah's response was in a tone that left no room for discussion,

"Well, if you insist on returning to Britain, I'm going with you."

Regulus nodded reluctantly. She immediately extracted her hand from his, crossed the room and climbed into bed. She burrowed herself beneath the covers so that no part of her remained visible. Regulus sighed, knowing he wouldn't hear anything more out of her for the rest of the night.

He had a sinking feeling this would only be the first of many disagreements that would arise between them now that Voldemort had reared his ugly head.

* * *

It was swelteringly hot in Little Whinging and there was to be no relief from the heat in Harry Potter's near future. He sat dully swinging in the neighborhood park as he had been banned from the Dursley's house until nightfall. To be fair, he likely would have spent most of the day outdoors, banned or not, as the stifling heat outside was a slight improvement over spending time indoors with his aunt and uncle complaining about his every movement.

Because of the obvious resentment of his presence, he usually stayed outdoors by choice, though today it had been of necessity. His Uncle Vernon was having some Eddings bloke, a potential client who was said to be loaded, and his wife over for dinner.

Naturally after the incident with Dobby prior to Harry's second year, the Dursley's had decided his presence was unwelcomed in the house this time around. Somewhat less expected had been when Harry entered the kitchen this morning and had had a stale piece of bread shoved into his hand before being rushed outside and told not to return until well after dark. As that had been hours ago, his stomach was already growling. Since he wasn't allowed muggle money and wasn't delusional enough to think anyone in the neighborhood would offer to feed him, he tried to think of other things.

He supposed today was actually a better day than most, as his Aunt Petunia hadn't asked him to do any manual labor in the yard for once. Dudley, on the other hand, had been spending the hottest parts of each day laying about the house, only to emerge as the sun began to set. And only then so that he could test out his newly acquired wrestling skills on the tweens of the neighborhood. His aunt and uncle thought he was having tea with his mates because he was oh-so-popular. It really was unbelievable how dumb they were about their son.

Harry tried not to dwell on how such a miserable day could still be one of the better ones he had of the summer so far. Adding to his discomfiture was that he hadn't expected it to be a boring summer at all.

He didn't know what should be happening exactly, only that with Voldemort's return, the quiet of the neighborhood seemed too quiet to be natural. Then again, any sudden noise seemed unusually loud to his paranoid-of-attack heightened senses. He had taken to watching or at least listening in on the muggle news that his aunt and uncle watched, yet there had been nothing to gain there either.

He was convinced something must be happening now that Voldemort was back, but how was he meant to know anything about it when he was cut off from the rest of the wizarding world? It wasn't fair that he was stuck with the Dursleys with nothing but useless letters for company. The constant reminders of, 'I know it must be frustrating not to know what's going on,' from Hermione and 'be good and keep your nose clean,' from Sirius, did little more than irritate him further with his isolation.

In his desperation for news, he had resorted to taking out a subscription at _The Daily Prophet_. He had been extremely disappointed after skimming the front page and not finding anything worth reading. Though why he was even surprised after his past experience with that particular newspaper, he didn't know. Even with his current level of boredom, he couldn't be bothered to read anything beyond the front page of the paper. He knew that anything as important as the return of the darkest wizard of the age was sure to be headline news.

He looked up at the sky and tried to gauge how much longer it would be before he could go home and eat. While he didn't dare to hope he would be allowed any of the leftover food from the Dursley's meal, he did hope he might be allowed something more filling than old bread for supper.

His attention was drawn to movement in his peripheral and he was instantly on his feet. He had immediately reached into the waistband of his jeans to pull his wand, and only just registered that the movement had not been death eaters before having extracted it entirely. Instead it was Mark Evans on a bicycle. The ten year old was bound to be on Dudley's list to practice his fighting skills on since his age was within what his cousin deemed appropriately fair.

Deciding it nearly time for the news to start, he began making his way towards the exit of the park. He knew the Dursley's wouldn't be watching the news with his potential client over, but with any luck one of the neighbors with an open window would have it turned up loud enough for him to hear.

Just as he began making his way down Magnolia Road, a male voice from his right called to him,

"Excuse me."

Harry turned towards the voice reflexively and was surprised to see the stranger was behind the wheel of a black sedan with the window rolled down. He hadn't ever known any vehicle could be so quiet.

"Good evening," the male started again politely. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but we are on a bit of a tight schedule and I am unsure if we are headed in the proper direction. I wondered if perhaps you might be able to help us. You are familiar with this neighborhood, I presume?"

Harry continued to look at him in surprise. Not just because he hadn't seen or heard them approach until they were alarmingly near him, but also because he had been addressed by them at all. If not from hearing the rumors his aunt and uncle spread about him, then the worn out and baggy clothes he was forced to wear generally ensured he wasn't regarded as endearing enough for anyone to speak to him-and likely not reliable enough to ask directions.

He glanced from the man to his wife, who smiled at him kindly, before answering,

"Yes sir, I am familiar with the neighborhood. Where is it that you are trying to get to?"

The man read from a sheet of paper in his hand, "Number Four Privet Drive," before looking back at him. "Is something wrong?" he asked after catching sight of his expression at the familiar address.

"Er- no, that's actually my aunt and uncle's address. I can give you directions if you'd like?"

"Don't be silly," the lady answered. "If he is your uncle then you should come with us. We are going there for dinner," she said as she held up a cake box as if to reiterate the point.

"Er- no, I couldn't do that."

The man chuckled, "Where are our manners, Libby? We haven't even introduced ourselves yet. I am Benjamin Eddings," he said as he held out his hand through the window. Harry shook it, before Mr. Eddings, indicated his wife, "and this my wife, Libby."

"Pleasure to meet you," she told him as he gave a slight bow in her direction in what must have been the most awkward thing he had ever done. He didn't even know what prompted him to bow, though if either of them had found him to be awkward, it didn't show in their expressions.

Their accents seemed odd to Harry as they weren't quite like anything he had heard before, yet not necessarily different enough not to be British. Even without having already heard from his uncle how wealthy these potential clients of his were, it would have been plain from their vehicle, clothing and mannerisms in general that they were the well-off sort. He thought that might somehow explain their absence of any distinguishable accent. One thing he knew was that his aunt and uncle would want to make a good impression with them- and meeting him would certainly not be a part of how they planned to do that.

"So, what's it going to be then? Will you at least tell us your name?"

Harry felt his cheeks redden. He had rarely been given the chance to introduce himself in the wizarding world since people generally recognized him before he could even tell them. No one in the muggle world ever much cared for an introduction.

"Sorry about that, I'm Harry Potter."

"Well Harry Potter, would you like to hop in the back and direct us towards your uncle's house? Or if you would prefer I suppose I could follow you there, though I do hope you are a fast walker in that case. I hate to think what the neighbors would think… either way, I must insist you eat with us. Its suppertime and much too hot to be outside any more than necessary if you ask me."

Harry looked the man over again carefully to ensure he wasn't anyone he recognized from the wizarding world. He looked to be nearly sixty if he was to guess, though his wife looked at least a decade younger.

Realizing the absurdity of a death eater knowing how to drive a car, and thinking of his uncle's indignation as he showed up with them, Harry hopped in the back seat. Besides, if they were death eaters, at least it would put an end to his boring summer.

He completely missed the look that was exchanged by the front passengers of the vehicle at his trustfulness, and had no way to know of the panic he had just caused an invisible Order member standing guard.


	7. Dinner with the Dursleys

As soon as the Edding's vehicle stopped outside of his uncle's house, Harry got out quickly. As nice as they were, the ride had been an uncomfortable one. Mr. Eddings had driven incredibly slowly, apparently very interested in the neighborhood, while Mrs. Eddings had politely inquired about his summer holiday. Knowing they were important to his uncle's business, Harry had been tempted to tell them exactly what his summer had been like, and his entire childhood for that matter- out of bitterness. Knowing he would only be punished later, and that they were unlikely to believe him anyway, he instead spoke as if he had been having a perfectly boring, though normal summer.

As soon as he exited the vehicle he realized it would be rude to go inside without them and stood awkwardly to the side of the driveway as they got out- or attempted to get out in the case of Mr. Eddings. Harry pretended not to notice when the rather large man seemingly underestimated the size of his belly and fell back into his seat on his first attempt to get out of the car.

He felt even worse for the man when he saw that his wife wasn't bothering to hide her amusement over the situation. Given their obvious age difference and that Mrs. Eddings was quite pretty for her age while Mr. Eddings was plump and balding, Harry thought she might qualify as what he had often heard his aunt refer to as a trophy wife. He pushed the idea from his mind quickly though as, even despite her giggling, she didn't hesitate to help her husband get out of the car - something Harry felt oddly guilty for not doing himself.

Of course it was his luck the first thing Mr. Eddings did upon making it out of the car, was glance at him. Knowing the elder man must have realized his whole ordeal had been witnessed caused Harry to tense. If his uncle Vernon would have caught him watching him in such an embarrassing situation he would have been punished. Much to his surprise though, Mr. Eddings chuckled,

"This old body just isn't what it used to be," he explained.

"Oh…well," Harry answered uneasily, "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to meet my aunt and uncle." Remembering the box that had been in the car and noticing that Mrs. Eddings was carrying only a small handbag, he asked, "Mrs. Eddings didn't you bring a cake… or something?"

She seemed to startle slightly at his question before answering, "I did, but as it seems Ben here has enjoyed a few too many sweets lately," she grinned at her husband, who merely patted his fat stomach in response as if completely unconcerned by her teasing, "I think I'd better leave it. I was a bit unsure about bringing it anyway to be honest with you. I'm not very familiar with the customs of England. We're actually from the United States of America, I think we forgot to mention."

"Oh," he answered lamely, realizing that must have been why his aunt had developed a sudden obsession with American culture in the past week.

He supposed their being from the US also explained the different inflections in their words from what he was used to. As he hadn't ever met any Americans before, he had been unable to place it right away.

"I don't know much about the customs for things like this either," he admitted. "I don't think my aunt expected you to bring anything, but I doubt she would mind that you did." _All she really cares about is your husband's money_ , he guiltily added to himself.

"I think we'll just leave it then," she answered with a wink.

Upon leading them inside the house, Harry was just about to announce their presence when he heard his uncle's booming voice,

"Let's go over our schedule once again. Shall we? Petunia, when the Eddings' arrive, you will be-" Harry glanced apologetically at the couple before making his way towards the kitchen.

"In the lounge, waiting to greet them graciously to our home."

"Good. And Dudley, you will be-"

"I'll be waiting to answer the door. Last time I counted fifteen seconds first. It seemed-" he stopped mid-sentence having caught sight of Harry as he poked his head into the kitchen.

His Uncle Vernon's face turned an impressive shade of purple as he demanded, "What are you doing here, boy? I told you to get lost and not come back until after dark- at the earliest! Not coming back at all would-"

"Hello," Mr. Eddings greeted mildly as he made his way around Harry and into the kitchen. The Dursley's collectively froze in their seats around the table, obvious horror in each of their expressions. "I apologize for turning up like this, but I'm afraid the directions provided by your office were a bit confusing. It's lucky we managed to run into your nephew at the park, less we might have just gone back to our hotel."

"I'll speak to the office about this first thing tomorrow," Vernon answered as he rose clumsily to his feet. "Such incompetence is unacceptable!" he assured him with increasing confidence as the shock of Mr. Eddings' presence began to wear off.

"W-welcome to our gracious- welcome to our home," Harry's aunt greeted as she stood from her seat as well.

Mr. Eddings gave her a passing glance before shifting his attention to Dudley as he too made to stand. His eyes narrowed slightly at Dudley's appearance causing Harry to wonder if he found the obvious strain on his cousin's shirt buttons to be as amusing as he did.

Mr. Eddings set his jaw as his gaze returned to Vernon, giving the impression that he was much angrier than his tone had implied. And perhaps even angrier than the situation warranted given that he had only just met any of them. Harry mused that they must have driven around lost for quite some time before deciding to ask him for directions.

It seemed he wasn't the only one who sensed Mr. Eddings' ire as each of the Dursleys remained frozen where they stood. The slight tension in the room was interrupted a moment later as Mrs. Eddings entered,

"Hi, I'm Libby," she announced very loudly, with a broad smile and a wave to the room at large.

To Harry's surprise, her presence seemed to be enough for Mr. Eddings' to relax slightly, allowing more appropriate greetings and introductions to occur from there.

After the introductions had concluded his uncle addressed him, "Harry, I believe you mentioned you had some place else to be for dinner?" he asked, nodding his head emphatically to ensure he knew he wasn't welcome.

"I hoped that he would stay," Mrs. Eddings objected with an increasingly less familiar accent than Harry remembered from the car. "It's just that you never know what trouble teens left alone in the park might find themselves in these days. Besides, its suppertime and it looks as if there is plenty of food."

His aunt and uncle exchanged nervous glances before his uncle answered, "Of course Petunia has prepared plenty of food. But as we are going to be talking about business-"

"Nonsense," Mr. Eddings waved his hand dismissively. "I've no intention of discussing business over dinner- if that were the case we could have arranged a meeting for lunch. This is more about getting to know you, Vernon. I like to have the peace of mind that the people I am doing business with are the good sort, especially when we are talking about such a large investment that is to be made. Besides, with Dudley staying I see no harm in allowing a second teenager to dine with us."

"Oh, well… very well then," Vernon answered before throwing Harry a look that clearly meant he had better be on his best behavior, meaning silent. And no magic.

At his aunt's request, Harry left the kitchen to go and 'make himself more presentable.' As he was walking out, the doorbell rang, prompting Dudley to come barreling through the door after him.

"Be sure to wait fifteen seconds," Harry muttered to Dudley as he skirted around him and up the stairs. Dudley began to make a rude gesture with his hand in response, but caught sight of Mr. Eddings watching them and settled for pushing his hair back from his face instead.

As Harry made his way into his bedroom and closed the door behind him, he found he didn't feel even remotely guilty about crashing his uncle's business dinner. After being forced to live on scraps since term ended, being allowed to eat something his aunt had prepared for people she wanted to impress felt too much like a personal victory for guilt.

As his thoughts involuntarily flashed back to Cedric's stilled body, and Voldemort resurrecting from the cauldron in the graveyard though, he wasn't sure if he would enjoy it as much as he should.

* * *

Regulus exchanged an unhappy look with Maliah as they were directed by Mrs. Dursley to their seats around the table. While it was perhaps too soon to draw anything conclusive regarding Harry's treatment, there was certainly a suggestion of inequity between him and his cousin. While their size difference could be put to different eating habits, the glorified rags in which Harry was dressed compared to his cousin's attire was enough to raise anyone's eyebrows.

As he pulled out the chair for Maliah to sit before taking his own beside her, the pink-faced boy came back into the kitchen, nervously requesting his father's assistance with whomever had knocked on the door. Regulus withheld a smirk, fairly certain that the visitor would be someone from the Order checking in.

"So how was your flight over?" Petunia asked as she brought them each a cup of tea.

"I was surprised by how quickly the time passed," 'Libby' answered brightly.

Taking his cue from Maliah, Regulus attempted to adopt a more cheerful attitude. Chuckling slightly, he answered, "Easy for her to say. She managed to sleep most of the way- much more easily done from a window seat, I might add."

"Well at least we won't have to make the trip back too many more times," Maliah answered. "We are looking at properties to purchase in London since Benjamin will be needed here permanently with his company's expansion."

"I can't imagine picking up and moving to another country. And from America! Had you ever even heard of London before this?"

"London is the one of largest cities in the world. How could we not have heard of it?" Regulus asked incredulously, surprisingly defensive of his place of birth.

Petunia shirked back slightly at his tone, but was clearly determined to sound informed as she answered proudly, "Americans simply can't be bothered to know what goes on in the rest of the world. I was reading only yesterday they aren't entirely convinced a world outside of its borders even exists."

"Perhaps what you read was satirical?" Maliah suggested, unable to entirely hide a smile. "I am quite sure Americans are aware they do not live in the only country that exists. Though people anywhere are more likely to focus on the region in which they live as that is what generally has the most impact on their lives.

"Is it not possible Americans are only perceived to be disinterested in the rest of the world because they- _we_ are isolated from much of it? Then again, I'm not sure why anyone would try to pigeonhole a population of over 300 hundred million people."

Petunia, though she had been nodding along while Maliah had been speaking, was clearly not the best conversationalist. After a slight delay, she answered rather anxiously,

"I hadn't ever thought of it like that."

Jumping on the opportunity, Maliah easily changed the subject, "You know, Harry reminds me of our son-"

"Ohh, you have a son!" Petunia answered enthusiastically, obviously relieved to have something in common with them. "What's his name?"

"Mason," Maliah answered fondly, "It was my maiden name. It's becoming a bit of a tradition in my family to name one's firstborn as such… though of course not all names would be suitable."

"What a… charming tradition," Petunia answered with poorly disguised distaste. "I can't imagine _your_ son would be anything like my sister's. Dudley, sure but, Harry? He's been nothing but trouble since the day he was left on our doorstep."

Regulus glanced at Maliah and was relieved to see that her expression suggested nothing beyond polite interest in their conversation. He had no doubt she too was thinking of the endless things that could go wrong with a baby-toddler being left alone outside.

"Left on your doorstep?" he asked, "Surely not. Don't things like custody require some sort of legal process here? It certainly does in the US." He wasn't actually sure how custody worked in the muggle world but knew anything that resembled something from ancient folklore, complete with the doorstep delivery of a baby, couldn't be the norm.

Petunia cackled, "Oh yes, I've heard about _that_ in America too. People over there will get a solicitor for anything. Harry is ours perfectly legally thank you very much, not that _we_ ever had a say in the matter." Evidently realizing neither of them would be satisfied with her answer, she attempted to change the subject, "I simply can't hold this back anymore. I absolutely loovvee your accents," she remarked with such reverence that it had to have been forced.

"Well, that's about the most awkward thing someone can say to a person," Regulus answered dryly.

"Benjamin," Maliah scolded as Petunia flushed considerably.

"It's true. Should we say 'thank you' for your appreciation of a dialect that is considered commonplace where we are from? Should we insist that we prefer _your_ accent as if to imply our own is wrong? Whether someone is from Britain, America- or even Australia, no one on the receiving end of that compliment ever knows how to respond to it. Its awkward and best left unsaid."

"Thank you for the compliment," Maliah answered tightly, ignoring his tirade. "I like your accent as well."

Petunia smiled gratefully at 'Libby,' before excusing herself to go check on Vernon.

"You are such an arse," Maliah muttered once she was out of earshot.

"Please, you have no idea of the restraint I've shown… the things I could have said."

"Yes, awe-inspiring, that restraint," she answered dryly before lowering her voice, "How could anyone leave a baby on a doorstep? Surely Dumbledore would have known about it if that were the case… something seems off about this whole arrangement."

"More than something. More like a lot of things."

Maliah nodded glumly without further comment on the matter, obviously realizing it wasn't the best moment for such a discussion. She had already made sure Regulus agreed they wouldn't do anything drastic today no matter what happened before they arrived. Leaning towards him she whispered, "I'm not sure we are passable as Americans."

Regulus smirked, "Do you really think it matters? Unless it was 'as seen on TV'-"

"Er- hello," Harry interrupted from the doorway.

"Welcome back," Maliah greeted him brightly.

Regulus was careful to keep his expression neutral as he glimpsed the oversized and faded clothing which had evidently been deemed his most appropriate for company. Especially as the pristinely dressed Dursley's filed in behind him.

"Sorry about that, some aggressive girl guides, they were," Vernon explained boisterously as he wiped sweat from his flushed face. "Wouldn't leave until we agreed to buy a sampling of all of their cookies," he chuckled as he angled his enormous gut to fit into his seat at the table.

"Nothing worse than being forced to buy something you don't need," Regulus quipped.

"I brought wine," Maliah chimed in quickly, procuring a bottle of her preferred brand from her much too-small-to-have-fit-a-bottle-of-wine handbag, "It's supposed to be French I think… the label could be in Italian for all I know, but the bottle was the prettiest Heathrow had to offer so that has to count for something!"

* * *

Sirius impatiently paced the front entryway of Grimmauld Place as he waited for an update from Remus. Tonks had been on guard duty in Surrey when Harry decided to jump into the backseat of some stranger's car. Instead of contacting him immediately, she had informed Dumbledore who had been with Remus at the time. Remus had been sent to help Tonks, as apparently Dumbledore hadn't been concerned enough to check on him himself.

By the time Sirius had even heard of the incident, Remus had already met Tonks in Surrey. The quick patronus Remus had sent him informed both of the incident and that Harry was now 'safely' inside his uncle's house. Along with his kidnappers.

According to Remus' message they seemed to be guests of the Dursley family. From what Sirius knew of the Dursleys though, no one on good terms with them would be as cordial with Harry. Assuming they had never met, what was Harry thinking getting into a stranger's car? Surely even the Dursleys would have taught him that was dangerous.

Sirius' returning patronus had stated that if Remus didn't march into the Dursley's house that instant and find out exactly what condition Harry was in and who those strangers were, then he would be on his way to do it himself.

Remus had answered quickly and adamantly that his involvement wasn't necessary, and reminded him that it would be exceedingly irresponsible for him to show up on Privet Drive. Despite believing it to be unnecessary, he agreed to check in with the Dursleys to ensure nothing was amiss- mostly just to keep Sirius away. That had been the last Sirius had heard from anyone, the message having arrived eight minutes ago. Sirius was two minutes away from apparating to Surrey.

Just as his last vestiges of patience were leaving him, the door opened emitting Remus.

"What took you so long?" Sirius demanded.

Remus smirked slightly, "What, no, 'are you ok, my oldest friend'? No, 'I'm glad you weren't kidnapped by the evil couple that was after Harry'?-"

"Where is Harry?" Sirius asked, slightly calmer since Remus had apparently deemed Harry was safe enough to warrant being less serious, yet annoyed that he felt this to be an appropriate time for their former marauding antics.

"He is with his aunt, uncle and cousin at their house. The muggles whom he rode with are work associates of Harry's Uncle. Apparently they insisted that Harry have supper with them and that is why they picked him up-"

"Did Harry tell you that?" Sirius asked though it came out more as a grunt.

"His uncle told us that. We knocked on the door and Harry's cousin answered. When he realized we were wizards he went and got his father who told us in no uncertain terms that we were to leave his property at once." At Sirius' look of disbelief he added, "He's fine Sirius. He is spending an evening with muggles, likely in the capacity of a butler, but at least he should get a good meal out of it for a change."

"Yes, because being fed proper meals on daily basis is too much of a nuisance for his so-called family, isn't it?"

"Sirius-" Remus began in a placating tone.

"I know it's for the best… but is it really?" Sirius asked bitterly. "What _did_ Harry say?"

Remus looked around the room for a moment before answering uncomfortably, "Well the Dursley's wouldn't actually let us see him-" Remus began, "Where are you going?" he demanded as Sirius made his way towards the door.

"I told you I was going. If you didn't speak with him, I was going. I'm going," Sirius answered, his words echoing slightly in the foyer before the door slammed behind him.

* * *

"Wine servings are much bigger here," Mrs. Eddings remarked as she surveyed the glass in front of her that Harry had just re-filled to the brim. Harry watched as she carefully took a sip, unsure if he had done something wrong. Noticing his gaze, she nodded approvingly, "I think the Britons have got it right."

"Of course you do," Mr. Eddings answered drolly, likely thinking that a fourteen year old wasn't a good guide for what a standard serving size was. Instead of pointing that out though, he addressed the room at large, "Now, we've heard about Dudley as he has zealously stuffed himself… as if a pig preparing for slaughter. Harry, why don't you have a seat and eat something. Perhaps tell us about yourself."

Harry's eyes widened as he looked at Mr. Eddings before glancing to his uncle. He had realized by now that he had been much too optimistic when he thought his 'invitation' to dinner would actually entail him being allowed to eat.

He convinced himself it had only been his imagination earlier that Mrs. Eddings looked disappointed when she realized that he wasn't going to be eating with them. He thought it must have been wishful thinking on his part that Mr. Eddings' annoyance at having 'something as pretentious as a wait staff for such an informal meeting' had somehow not seemed even remotely directed at him.

Despite his uncle's threat when he had come downstairs to do everything that was asked of him without complaining, Harry didn't know if those orders applied to such a bold request as actually joining them.

"You- you don't want that," Vernon answered with a nervous chuckle. "He's got- a horrible disease-"

"He's been serving our food," Mr. Eddings answered bemusedly.

"Yes, well- it's a disease- for when he is around people- a phobia around strangers."

"Well, he seems perfectly fine around us," Mrs. Eddings answered as she stood to pull out the last remaining chair.

Harry's eyes drifted from the chair to the vein throbbing in his uncle's neck, waiting for the outburst that was bound to come. As such, he hadn't noticed Mrs. Eddings' approaching him, and lurched away from her touch the moment he felt a hand on his arm.

"Don't you want to eat, Harry?" she asked gently as she withdrew her hand. Something in her tone reminded him of Mrs. Weasley and while the two women likely had nothing else in common, it was enough to calm his nerves slightly. Not trusting his voice to sound level, he nodded and a moment later watched as she filled his plate with near-Dudley-size portions of roast and vegetables.

He mumbled, 'thank you' as she passed him on her way back to her seat, before taking his across from Dudley. Embarrassed and unsure of how long he had before he would be 'asked' to leave, he immediately started in on the food. He was careful to keep his eyes on his plate rather than risk making eye contact with anyone.

He was vaguely aware that conversation between the adults had resumed but as he was more concerned with trying to at least enjoy the meal, that would certainly be his last, he mostly ignored the conversation. It was only after he had made considerable progress on his roast that he was engaged in conversation again. Again by Mr. Eddings,

"Do you attend Smeltings Academy as well, Harry?"

As he quickly made to swallow a large bite of potato, his aunt cackled,

"Oh no, he could never keep up with the rigorous curriculum of Dudley's school," she answered rather nastily. Harry looked up, slightly taken aback though not entirely surprised that she had used such a tone while speaking to guests as important as the Eddings. Of course the fact that she was watching him eat may have explained it. It seemed she was actually quite offended that he had been invited to eat her cooking without her consent. Smirking at her slightly, Harry took another bite as she added, "He attends _St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys._ "

Harry felt his cheeks redden as the Eddings family looked back at him but did his best to ignore it as he took a drink of water.

"Ah, I haven't heard of that one," Mr. Eddings answered in an odd tone, "Though it seems an odd choice based on the name. I mean what good is a self-fulfilling prophecy if it has a negative connotation?"

"Well it's certainly not that we _want_ him to be a criminal," Vernon answered. "It's an embarrassment! But we know the facts. He's been tested. It's inevitable."

"I can certainly understand why you would be embarrassed," Mr. Eddings answered dryly, causing Harry to almost lose the rest of his appetite as he looked up from his plate. To his surprise though, it seemed the elder man's disdain was towards his uncle rather than him, "Do you know what most criminals have in common?"

Vernon smirked at Harry obviously excited to have someone else to share in his favorite pastime of bullying him before answering proudly, "Poor bloodlines."

"No," Mr. Eddings answered sharply. "It has been proven time and time again that the vast majority of people who find themselves in trouble with the law did not have proper guidance in their youth. Often, they were without a good father figure. One must consider that perhaps the problem doesn't lie with Harry."

"N-no proper guidance?" Vernon spluttered, "I placed a roof over his head when no one else would do it. I have given him clothing and food. Are you suggesting I'm a poor father figure? Look at Dudley! We haven't had any problems out of him!"

Mr. Edding's glanced at Dudley who Harry saw had his mouth hanging wide open before looking back to Vernon, "You'll have to forgive me- being an old man, I tend to speak my mind. From what I can tell, it looks as if Harry is wearing your son's hand-me-downs, which will likely never fit him, while your son's clothing looks to be brand new. Harry was only allowed to eat after everyone else- and only then at my insistence. You've sent him to what sounds like a second-rate school…. And worst of all you're bragging as if you've done him so great service when it sounds very much as if he has not received equal treatment to another child in your household.

"And despite the reasons you've given, Harry has shown adequate manners since we've met him and has certainly not given me any reason to believe he is 'incurably criminal'. Quite frankly, the way you present him is far more telling of your own character than his. So much so that I'm not sure that I can, in good conscience, do business with you in the future."

For a moment Mr. Eddings words hung between them. No one spoke as the two men stared at one another. Harry's aunt was looking back and forth between the men as if afraid she might miss something. Dudley remained with his mouth hung wide, apparently too surprised someone had actually called them out on their treatment of him to show any composure himself.

After a moment Harry settled for staring at his plate. It was clear his uncle was furious though Mr. Eddings hadn't even raised his voice. He vaguely wondered where he should go after his uncle kicked him out. He was certain it was about to happen. There was no way he wouldn't blamed for this.

"You would make your decision on who you do business with based on a boy?" his uncle asked after a moment, his tone clearly only calm with much effort.

Mr. Eddings raised an eyebrow, "How could I trust my accounts would receive the same quality of customer service that your previous accounts have received?"

"I've been meaning to take him to get new clothes!" his aunt nearly shouted in desperation. "He just got home a few days ago and has outgrown everything from last year. You're growing like a weed…. Harry," she added more quietly, causing him to actually look at her. Not because he was possibly getting new clothes but because it was the first time he could remember ever being addressed by his actual name by the Dursleys. Even Dudley and Vernon were looking at her in surprise.

"See there?" Vernon asked more cheerfully. "He's simply outgrown all of his good clothes from last year. We'll get him some more."

* * *

"You know... For how terrible everyone talks about the Dursley's, from the outside looking in, they seem almost normal," Tonks remarked from beneath Moody's invisibility cloak as she moved to stand beside Remus.

It had taken both of them to convince Sirius that forcing their way into the Dursley's house without any evidence that Harry was in trouble was both illegal and stupid. After wasting an exuberant amount of time arguing about it, they had spent the last couple of minutes observing the Dursley's having dinner through the kitchen windows.

Sirius scoffed, "Yes, well considering _this_ is the first time anyone has ever _bothered_ to watch them from closer than the curb... We can't hear anything they are saying, and they are of course acting on their best behavior for company right now... Your assessment doesn't count for much."

"Geez, mum was right about you having anger issues," Tonks answered only somewhat under her breath. "Since you seem to have missed it from our last meeting- we are supposed to be guarding him in case any of Voldemort's goons manage an attack, or if the ministry intervenes for some reason. We aren't supposed to spy on his family... But as I'm sure you can imagine, watching a house from the street is painfully boring, so this is _not_ the first time I've ever done _this_. How do you think I knew we could see into the kitchen from here?"

"You've watched them before and still think they seem normal?" Sirius asked derisively, "Glad to see the Black genes live on through you."

"Of course I have Black genes," she answered unconcernedly. "How else could I be so attractive?"

"And arrogant," Remus muttered.

"You're a metaphorphagus," Sirius answered smugly, "Does anyone know what you really look like?"

"Are you always this mean or do you reserve it for family?"

"Enough," Remus interjected. "This isn't the place for bickering. And I think we've seen enough to know Harry isn't being mistreated- at least no more than usual. Sirius and I should leave."

When Sirius made no effort to move away from the window, Tonks indicated the family inside,

"This is only my second time 'spying' on them. Harry got in trouble last time... but I think it was something to do with staying out too late and missing dinner. His aunt handed him bread and a hunk of cheese before sending him off to bed a few minutes later."

Sirius snorted, "That would have been his supper no matter what time he arrived home. And you think that's normal?"

"No, I would think that's horrible considering what the other men in that house must eat in order to keep their figures, but I am trying to give them the benefit of the doubt for now."

A moment later Vernon seemed to raise his voice as he looked derisively in Harry's direction. Sirius growled in response and put a hand on the window, which Remus promptly knocked away,

"Calm down," he whispered exasperatedly.

"Do you think maybe Dumbledore hasn't let you do guard duty yet because he worries you won't be able to... be discreet?" Tonks asked somewhat nervously.

"Considering he let's you do it," Sirius answered bitingly, "No."

"Alright, on that note, Sirius, you and I should leave. The last thing we need is to draw attention to ourselves. Harry appears to be perfectly safe and-"

Suddenly Tonks was sprawled on the ground amidst a broken bird bath which she had apparently attempted to sit on- causing an almighty crash upon its downfall.

* * *

"What was that?" Vernon demanded as Petunia rushed to turn on the back porchlight. Seeing nothing, Vernon started to open the back door only to have it forced the rest of the way open by a giant black shaggy dog.

His aunt began screaming as the dog ran through the kitchen, tracking up her painstakingly clean floors. Mrs. Eddings went into a fit in her own right, flailing her arms and shrieking,

"I'm allergic! I'm deathly allergic to dogs. I'm sorry, I have to go!" before running out.

Harry was baffled as to why Sirius had shown up, but was determined to ensure his uncle didn't do anything to hurt him- not that that was an issue at the moment as Mr. Eddings seemed entirely at ease with the situation. While his wife had presumably gone out to the car already, he calmly spoke to his uncle- thanking him for dinner, imploring him to think over what he had said if he hoped to collaborate in the future. Most interesting was that he seemed content to stretch out the conversation for as long as possible while his uncle happily took every last moment to attempt to win him over.

As his aunt retrieved a broom from the cupboard, Harry felt Padfoot lick his hand just before leaping onto the table and helping himself to the remaining roast.

Harry might have been able to withhold his laughter if not for being all but certain that Mr. Eddings subsequent cough had been an attempt to cover his own. It truly was as if the chaos around them somehow amused him.

As his uncle finally went to escort Mr. Eddings out the front door, completely ignoring the rabid dog in the room in favor of attempting to salvage a potential business deal, Sirius inexplicably followed them out as well.

"Where do you think you're going?" his aunt demanded as Harry made his way to follow Sirius.

"I just-"

"You will not further encroach upon their meeting, do you understand?" she somehow managed to shriek while keeping her voice mostly under her breath."You- will clean this up!" she commanded as she shoved the broom in his hand before making her way into the living room.

Harry rolled his eyes as he heard her make yet another fuss over the state of the carpet that 'disgusting animal' had made in there. Naturally Dudley had ran and hid at the first opportunity to ensure he wouldn't be asked to help clean.

When his uncle came back inside a few minutes later and began talking in hushed tones to his aunt in the living room, Harry quickly went out the backdoor and around to the front to find Sirius. There was no way he was going to miss out on the chance to talk to his godfather- maybe he could even convince him to take him when he left.

However, after careful observation, and to his great confusion and disappointment, Sirius was nowhere to be seen on Privet Drive.

Furthering his discomfiture was when the front door of Number Four opened a moment later,

"Boy," his uncle began in his normal harsh tone. Apparently realizing what he had just done, he quickly looked up and down the street in a bit of a panic. When he spoke again his voice was unnaturally serene, "Your aunt needs you to help clean up…when you have time."

When Harry did nothing but stare at him in confusion at the odd request, his uncle let out a huff of exasperation before retreating further into house, slamming the door behind him.

Harry stayed outside for another minute thinking about the evening's events. And Sirius. Why had he bothered showing up if he wasn't going to at least talk to him? Maybe he realized only after getting here that it would be too risky? Maybe he hadn't realized the Dursleys would have company?

And why had his uncle acted so funny just then. 'When you have time,' he had said. Was the risk of losing Mr. Eddings' business actually enough to make him be nicer to him- even when the other man wasn't around? And why did Mr. Eddings, a stranger, even care how he was treated? Those who cared about him had never been concerned enough to do anything about it. To be fair, there wasn't much they could do, he supposed and Mr. Eddings was only looking out for his business.

Later that evening as Harry cleaned the dishes and scrubbed the floors and found himself being more ignored than insulted, he decided Mr. Eddings' must have left some impact on his relatives. If the absence of insult hadn't left so much room for the hurt of Sirius' abrupt departure he might have felt more grateful for it. As it was he couldn't wait to finish cleaning so that he could write a letter to Sirius and hopefully get some answers for his godfather's odd behavior.


	8. Missing House Elf

After enduring an obscene amount of groveling from Vernon Dursley, Regulus thought he almost knew how Voldemort must feel while among some of his more pathetic followers. In that case though, how could he stand it? Regulus withheld his desire to immediately cast a cleaning spell on his muggle jacket the moment Vernon patted it. He had obviously mistaken his amusement over Sirius' interruption as having finally worn him down and gained some approval.

As he opened the car door he hoped Vernon might take a hint and finally call an end to the charade for the evening. Unfortunately, he underestimated his brother who immediately jumped into the driver's seat, eliciting a squeal from his wife followed by a moan from Padfoot.

"What happened?" Regulus asked Maliah after watching her jump out of the passenger's seat a moment before Padfoot more or less fell out onto the pavement.

Maliah let out a couple of rather delicate sounding sneezes for Vernon's benefit, as Padfoot made his way into the grass and began roughly rubbing his eyes among the foliage.

After her sneezing fit, Maliah held up a small bottle of perfume, "I didn't mean to get it into his eyes," she answered apologetically.

"Serves the mutt right for not having any more discipline than that," Vernon answered boisterously. "The first call I'll be making when I get inside is to animal control-"

"Padfoot!" a lady wailed from a neighbor's yard, causing Sirius to sit up though unable to keep from squinting and blinking more than usual. Regulus saw Maliah shift uncomfortably and Regulus knew she regretted spraying him. His conscience wasn't bothered by it in the least though- anything was worth it to keep him from figuring out who she was. His previous need to involve them in James Potter's son's life suddenly felt immensely irresponsible.

"I've been looking all over for you!" the old lady who was dressed in a floral bathrobe and slippers chided as she made her way towards them. "I only let you out to do your business you foolish animal. You weren't supposed to run off. Did he leave an excrement here?" she asked as she casually brandished a little shovel and baggie from her _pocket_ , eliciting a simultaneous cringe from both Regulus and Maliah.

Regulus evaluated the woman but found he had no idea who she could be. The only females in the Order he could remember had been killed before Voldemort's downfall.

"I didn't see," Regulus answered as he tentatively scratched Padfoot's ears, "Though if I may make a suggestion, there have been studies to show that having dogs neutered helps to keep them from running off." Regulus smirked slightly when he had to immediately withdraw his hand to avoid being bitten.

"You had better get that mutt under control before I do call animal control!" Vernon shouted in outrage. "You can't just let him go about biting and pooping anywhere he pleases. I'll have you know he actually went _inside_ my house and ate off of my table!"

"I'm sure she won't allow that to happen again," Maliah interrupted before throwing in yet another too-delicate-to-be-real sneeze. "I'm sorry, I simply can't handle being around him any longer," she told them. Turning quickly to Vernon, she remarked, "Please thank Petunia for me. Everything was wonderful," she said as she retreated back to the car.

When Regulus finally managed to extract himself from the rather odd group gathered in the yard of number four, he found Maliah resting an elbow on the windowsill as she covered her face with a hand.

After backing the car out of the driveway, he placed a hand on her knee.

"That was a disaster," she remarked causing him into break into laughter.

"You didn't even see the best part. Sirius in all of his doggish glory, jumping onto the table and polishing off the rest of the roast. He's never been one to do anything halfway," he remarked fondly. Smiling wryly he added, "If we're discussing disasters though, no conversation would be complete without mentioning your eclectic blend of accents this evening."

"What?" she asked in surprise. "It was American."

"Yes, west coast, southern belle. New England. It was like taking a tour of the continental U.S… with some outliers. I think I may have recognized an attempt at Atlantic Canadian at one point."

"You did not," Maliah objected to his exaggeration before catching sight of his pudgy hand still on her leg, "You should be nicer unless you intend to sleep in this car tonight."

"I'm sure I'll manage to get out somehow," he smirked.

"With that physique? I doubt it," she answered haughtily as they both became more sullen.

"What are we going to do about Harry?" Maliah asked after a moment.

Regulus shrugged, "I worried Sirius didn't know of his situation. As that clearly isn't the case, I'm not sure there is anything more to be done. We shouldn't have come-"

"How can you say that?" Maliah objected. "Did you see how much he jumped when I touched his arm? And all of the silent conversations between him and his uncle-"

"Sirius is Harry's rightful guardian," Regulus answered in a tone that purposely sounded less concerned than he felt. "His presence clearly indicates that he knows of his godson's situation. What more is there for us to do?"

"Does it matter that Sirius knows of his situation if he is unwilling to do anything about it?"

Regulus waved a hand in slight exasperation, "Who besides Sirius could do anything? I had intended to meet with my brother to let him know what we- I witnessed. If he already knows, what good would that even do?" he asked as he slowed the car to a stop at a traffic light. "He's already going to be furious I was here if he's managed to figure it out. The last thing I want to do is give him any indication as to who you are-" he stopped mid-sentence as something crashed into his door.

Regulus looked in slight alarm to find Padfoot, who quickly recovered from his collision and jumped onto the hood of the car.

"Oh, yes. He's clearly very rational," Maliah answered in a bit of a shriek, "Whatever he thinks is right, I'm sure is the way to go."

As the light turned green, Regulus slowly released the brake and began coasting along as if there wasn't a giant dog blocking his view. Maliah gave him an occasional direction as she was better able to see the road ahead.

"Just what are you intending to do?" she asked when he made no attempt to stop.

"I'm trying to think like a rational person. It's a huge dog, and I'd be mad to get out and try to 'reason' with an animal, especially when it could technically have rabies or something. I should be trying to throw him off."

"There used to be a veterinary clinic not terribly far from here. If nothing else, maybe drive towards it and he'll take your threat from earlier more seriously," she advised as she wracked her brain for the proper directions.

"How could you possibly know that?" Regulus asked her in bewilderment, knowing perfectly well that she hadn't grown up in Surrey.

"There's an amusement park we used to visit during the summer-" she began to explain.

"Never mind," Regulus shook his head. "We can relive your muggle childhood after we ditch the mutt," he answered before making a sharp turn to the right. Both of them winced at the sound of claws scratching against the paint as 'Padfoot' managed to cling on. Before he had recovered though, Regulus made another sharp turn onto the next street. Unable to hold on this time, Padfoot more or less rolled from the car's hood to the pavement and back up to the grass before burying his face in the ground and covering it with his paws.

He was disturbed a moment later by Tonks who landed her broom beside him.

"Did that go as you hoped?" she inquired cheekily.

"Go away," he answered as he reluctantly changed back into his human form, welcoming a slew of new aches and pains as he did so.

"Well alright, but as Remus has taken over for me on guard duty, I now have the night free. Since you seem intent on following muggles, I thought I should at least offer to give you a ride," she remarked, indicating her broom.

Sirius gave her an odd look at the proposition but whether because she was Andy's daughter or because he was screwed up in general, the right words wouldn't come. "They are not muggles," he answered instead, causing Tonks to laugh.

"You're just full of conspiracy theories tonight, aren't you? If not muggles, who are they?"

"It's-" he began as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Deciding against telling her about his real theory, or even of Regulus' survival for that matter, he tugged at his hair as he answered instead, "I just have a feeling about it. Let's follow them." Noticing that Tonks was leaning towards his face and squinting to better see him, he added a gruff, "Please," causing her to back off slightly.

* * *

"You really don't know what happened to them? Remus asked the next morning as he poured himself and Sirius a cup of tea. Sirius ignored the tea in place of continuing to nurse a bottle of firewhiskey.

"They completely disappeared. We searched all over," looking at Remus carefully, he added, "There's no way a muggle could have vanished like that."

"You think they were some of Voldemort's?" Remus asked with visible concern.

"No, nothing like that," Sirius reassured quickly, "Or maybe it was." At Remus' questioning look, he added, "I don't know. Maybe we just missed them… or maybe it was Regulus."

"Regulus," Remus repeated. "What on earth would he be up to if it were him?"

"I don't know, but there was a familiar scent… I'm almost certain it was him."

"Who would have been with him?"

Sirius shrugged, "It's been fifteen years. I guess even he could have found someone in that time. He could be married by now."

Before Remus could comment Sirius changed his mind, "No. I can't believe Regulus would be married. He's never cared about anyone but himself."

Remus scratched the back of his head as he observed his oldest friend, "Is that really a fair statement?" he asked. "It's been nearly twenty years since you've properly known him."

Sirius ran his hands through his hair then rested his elbows on the table. He propped his head up on them, only to bring them back down and cross his arms in front of him., unable to sit still. "What am I supposed to think about him? He's allowed me to believe him dead all this time."

"Would it have changed anything if you would have known differently?" Remus asked calmly.

"I don't- I don't want to talk about it." Sirius answered, more angrily than the discussion should have warranted.

Remus exhaled slowly in effort to hide his exasperation at his friend's mood swings, "Very well. What did Harry have to say when you spoke to him?" As Sirius' expression became ever stonier, Remus asked, "Please tell me you spoke to him after-"

"To tell him what exactly? _'That I'm sorry you're stuck with muggles you hate but your two best mates are moving in with me?_ ' That should cheer him right up, shouldn't it?"

"Ah. And when is Hermione expected to be here?"

"Tomorrow," Sirius answered bitterly.

"Has there been any indication as to when Harry can move in?"

"Whenever Dumbledore pulls his head out of his arse is my guess. It's all up to him, right?" Sirius answered in a huff before grabbing his bottle of firewhiskey and vanishing from the kitchen, leaving Remus to stare after him.

* * *

"Dad, Andrae has been wanting me to come visit all summer. When are we going home?" Carina asked over breakfast.

"All summer," Regulus repeated. "That's been what, like a week?"

"Regulus-" Maliah began to scold.

"More like two, and I really want to go-" Carina whined.

"How can you want to go home already?" Caelum asked incredulously. "We've spent at least a month on holiday every summer that I can remember and you've never been in any hurry to go home before."

"Surely you know why, Caelum," Maliah smiled.

"Ugh," the eleven year old grumbled under his breath.

"Doesn't Andrae's family miss him?" Regulus asked critically. "He's been away from them for the better part of ten months. Perhaps it would be good for him to be away from his schoolmates for a while."

"Schoolmates?" Carina demanded. "You think he thinks of me as just one of his pals from school?"

"Of course not, Carina," Maliah answered sending a chastising glare at Regulus. "What your father meant to say is that we've been enjoying your company away from the stress of home. We look forward to these trips every year, you know."

"You've been enjoying my company," Carina repeated doubtfully.

"Of course, dear. We've missed being all together under one roof."

"Oh, that makes sense then. Caelum, it was because they missed us," she explained as if answering his unasked question. Regulus and Maliah exchanged apprehensive looks.

Caelum snorted, "Oh, yeah, that clears everything up," he answered sarcastically.

"Yes," Carina answered critically. "Because the first thing I would think to do to with someone I've missed so much is ship them off to some pretentious music camp one of their first days 'home'."

"What happened to two weeks?" Regulus mocked lightly. "Anyway, I didn't want to have to tell you this, but the last time you played piano was anguish to listen to. That camp you went to is said to do wonders for pianists of all skill levels. I expect you will show us how much you've improved once we get back home."

"Great, let's go home and I'll show you tonight," Carina answered brightly. At Regulus' expression, her smile faded, "You always do this!"

"Send you to music camp in Italy?" he asked bemusedly. "I can't recall that ever happening before."

"No, but you had us to volunteer for a day at a children's camp last year in Canada because it 'builds character.' And let's not forget the day of learning to care for magical creatures in an Australian zoo. If you and mum need time away from us just say so. We're old enough to stay by ourselves now, you know."

"Has it not occurred to you that our intentions for sending you to either of those places might have been exactly as we said?" Maliah asked rationally. "Did you not find the opportunity to be around people you normally wouldn't interact with worthwhile after each of those experiences?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"I can't help but notice you didn't mention any of the things that you've been allowed to do simply because it was what you wanted," Regulus added. "Shall we make a comparison between how many things you've been allowed to do because you've asked compared to how many things you were 'forced' into? Or do you think perhaps it might be wiser to be grateful that you've had so many different experiences for someone your age?"

Carina looked down, "I didn't mean to sound ungrateful," she answered quietly. "I just- well what I said is true." Looking between them she added quickly, "I mean about us being old enough to stay alone… especially with Kreacher. I'm almost _fifteen._ Isn't it time you have a little faith we won't kill each other or whatever it is that seems to worry you so much?"

"You've stayed alone with Kreacher before," Regulus objected.

"Not often," Carina answered, as she mentally began counting the number of times she could remember on her fingers. Before she arrived at the number of times though, Caelum remarked,

"And never without mum excusing herself on the pretense of going to the bathroom* while secretly apparating home to check on us," he grinned. "Oh, I wasn't supposed to tell that, was I?" He asked cheekily.

Regulus shifted his gaze to Maliah, "Didn't hurt anything to check," she answered nonchalantly.

Carina gave a long-suffering shake of her head, "While we've maybe been exposed to more diverse experiences than most people our age, we've also missed out on some of the more basic things."

"Have you really?" Maliah asked doubtfully.

"Yes, please do enlighten us as to what meaningful experiences you have missed out on by having parents who love you and want what's best for you," Regulus inquired.

"The two of you are infuriating," Carina answered looking between them. "I was trying to be nice and offer you an out in case you felt guilty about leaving us. Shouldn't a night out alone sound appealing to happily married people?" Smirking slightly, she asked, "Is there a bigger issue here?"

"May I be excused?" Caelum asked uncomfortably.

"No, Caelum. You better stick around for this. Carina wants us to discuss your mother and I's relationship, and whatever her concerns, it's become a family issue. What details do you want to know, Care?" he asked conversationally.

Carina's mouth fell open slightly as she looked at him, horrified, "That was a joke."

"Yeah, I hoped," Maliah answered with a laugh. Looking back at Regulus she remarked, "It might be nice though, Reg. A night out without any certain time we have to be home." Regulus looked at her in surprise. "Kreacher would contact us immediately if anything happened."

"Of course he would, but-"

"Regulus, will you _please_ take me out tonight? Just the two of us? It would make me ever-so happy," Maliah pleaded with a smirk.

Regulus looked from her to Carina and Caelum. Both of them looked much too eager to hear his answer than the situation should have warranted. Maliah gave the faintest nod of her head, and he found himself answering, "I'd love to," fully aware he'd soon be regretting it.

Carina and Caelum excused themselves a few moments later. When it was only Maliah and Regulus left in the room, Regulus remarked,

"You just played into whatever they were planning. You know that, right?"

"Of course," she smiled slightly. "But it wasn't as if their request was anything I couldn't live with. Besides, what better way to catch them in their plans than by first agreeing to them?"

* * *

Harry sat in front of the window in his bedroom with his leg bouncing in agitation. After several attempts, he had managed to write a letter to Sirius which he felt conveyed his anger without giving away anything about the incident from the night before in case it was intercepted.

How could Sirius have been _inside his uncle's house_ , and not even bothered to talk to him? He had been out of contact with everyone since leaving King's Cross Station. While he desperately wanted information, even a friendly greeting would have been a nice change to the resentful looks he had come to expect from his so-called family.

Someone knocked loudly on his door once before forcing it open. His aunt Petunia walked in carrying a pile of clothes which she dumped onto his bed.

"Put all of this away neatly so it doesn't wrinkle," she instructed him irritably.

"Err- what is that for?"

"To wear, you foolish boy," his aunt snapped.

"For who to wear?" Harry asked bemusedly. Noticing the items looked to be new but much too small to fit his elephant-sized cousin, he asked doubtfully, "Are they for me?"

"Why else would I have asked you to put them away in your room?" she sniffed.

"But, why-?" he began to ask as he had never received anything new from his aunt before.

"Don't ask questions," she bit out before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

Harry remained seated at his perch by the window, staring at the pile of clothes with disinterest. New clothes wouldn't change how his neighbors would look at him. They certainly didn't mean his aunt and uncle cared for him. They meant nothing beyond the value his uncle placed on sealing a business deal with Mr. Eddings.

He was still being held captive in the muggle world, away from where he was anyone remotely valued as a person. Being unable to lash out at anyone else over his situation, he resentfully glared at the pile of clothes as if the new jumpers and trousers were somehow responsible for his current situation. He couldn't wait until Hedwig came back so that he could send his letter to Sirius. At least then he could at least pretend like he had accomplished something.

* * *

Only when the house finally became quiet, did Sirius leave the company of Buckbeak in his mother's bedroom. He might lie to the others but he couldn't deny to himself that he was avoiding everyone. The Weasley's had already overtaken his house. Hermione had arrived shortly after lunch. The Order members were in and out.

He had spent twelve years in prison and another two on the run. There were times he would have done anything for company then, but now that he had it in excess, he would give almost anything to be alone.

Realizing he hadn't consumed anything solid since breakfast, he made his way down the stairs hoping no one under the age of eighteen or with red hair would be in the kitchen. As he reached the lower landing, he managed to trip over his loose-fitting robes and instinctively grabbed the nearest object to steady himself.

When he released the object, he was somewhat repulsed to find it was a mounted house elf, the nose of which remained in his hand, having broken off from its host. Paying closer attention to the elves, he noticed something he hadn't given much thought to before now. Kreacher wasn't there.

Not overly concerned with repairing the house elf, he carried the nose down the rest of the stairs with him and into the kitchen.

He was no more surprised to find Remus sitting at the table looking over a blueprint of the Ministry than he was to find a plate of Molly's cooking waiting for him on the table. He was grateful for both. He could tolerate Remus better than he could anyone else, and was immensely glad no one else had attempted to wait up for him.

Silently taking his seat, he sat the house elf's nose down on the table beside him before pulling the plate towards him. As he ate his thoughts involuntarily went back to Kreacher.

He could vividly remember when it's mother died and had her head shrunken to better fit with the others mounted on the wall. Kreacher had watched in awe as her head was hung up, proclaiming there would be no greater honor for him than to join her. Sirius had offered to make his dreams come true sooner rather than later, which had only served to anger Regulus even more than usual.

Sirius concluded that Kreacher must have died while under the care of his mother, when Regulus was believed dead. He would have never denied the elf its dying wish otherwise.

Feeling Remus' eyes on him, he looked up.

"Do I even want to know what that is?" the werewolf asked, nodding towards the nose.

Sirius' lips involuntarily turned upwards, "Bits of house elf," he answered, causing Remus to pull a disgusted face. "Shame it wasn't Kreacher. Kreacher…" he repeated. On whim he called, " _Kreacher._ "

With a loud crack the small elf he despised appeared in front of him, looking distinctly horrified that Sirius had been able to summon him.

Covering his face behind his long fingers, he cried, "Kreacher won't! Kreacher won't! Kreacher won't serve the blood traitor!"

"Who will Kreacher serve?" Sirius asked predatorily. Kreacher became silent then though he continued to shake his head and refused to remove his hands from his eyes. "Escape to overseas with Regulus, did you? The coward. Couldn't answer for his past mistakes so he fled. He'd be better off dead than what he's become."

Kreacher let out a gagging sound, suggesting he might have attempted to defend Regulus but had been forbidden to do so. Of course he had been, Sirius mused. Regulus had always given house elves too much credit. As a result though, he had been the best at giving Kreacher orders no one else could find a way to break.

"You know, I have a few questions for that master of yours, Kreacher. Bring Regulus here. Now."

Kreacher brought his hands down from his face then and fixed Sirius with a look of loathing. After thinking over the orders for a moment, he gave the elfin equivalent of a smirk,

"Kreacher can't," he told him smugly.

"What do you mean you can't?" Sirius snarled. "I'm the head of the Black family. You are bound by your magic to do as I command."

"Kreacher can't bring you what you want," the elf told him proudly.

It went on like this for several minutes. Sirius asked Kreacher in a variety of ways to bring Regulus to him. In a moment of frustration he had even asked Kreacher to take him to Regulus which had sent Kreacher into a fit of raspy giggles. Sirius moved to within arm's length of the house elf then.

"Surely he will be summoning you home any minute now. I've got time to wait."

For the first time since his initial meltdown, Kreacher looked afraid, "No," he shook his head as if to convince himself. "He won't call me now."

"Where has Regulus been hiding all these years, Kreacher? As the head of the Black family I command you to tell me."

"Master Regulus died fifteen years ago," Kreacher answered serenely. "It was a tragedy."

"How did he convince everyone he died?" Sirius asked irritably.

" _The Daily Prophet_ announced it."

"How did he convince Voldemort he died?" Sirius rephrased his question, raising an eyebrow slightly when Kreacher didn't flinch at the name.

"No one knows how master Regulus died," he answered evasively.

Tonks and Bill Weasley entered the kitchen then, somehow managing to be quiet enough not to upset the entire house for once. Having his back turned to them, Sirius missed their entrance as he commanded authoritatively,

"Bring the youngest Black heir here to this household this instant Kreacher, or so help me you will have joined your mother's head on the wall by morning." Kreacher's eyes widened in a mixture of panic and horror as his own magic forced him to obey the orders given to him.

"Um..." Tonks had just enough time to announce rather ineloquently before Kreacher returned. In his grasp was a black haired boy with gray eyes, clad in jeans and a gray t-shirt, though still managing to look casually elegant in a way that was all-too familiar to Sirius.

"Oh my-! Sirius he is adorable!" Tonks exclaimed, grinning broadly as she moved closer to the boy.

The boy smirked, "You're pretty adorable yourself," he offered mischievously, sending her and Bill both into uproarious laughter. Sirius felt his mouth fall open as he stared at him. Their resemblance was undeniable.

As if only then registering the oddity of the situation, the boy turned to his elf, "Where exactly are we, Kreacher?" he asked slowly.

The house elf covered his face in his hands miserably, "Kreacher brings young master to the Black family's ancestral home as the blood traitor demanded." The boy knitted his eyebrows as he properly took in the three adult males in the room for the first time. Finding Sirius last, his eyes settled on him as Kreacher added, "This is where your father grew up."


	9. The Trouble with Siblings

Sirius shifted uncomfortably as the boy who looked almost exactly how he best remembered Regulus studied him. With all of the questions competing for attention, it felt oddly important to know his age.

"How old are you?" He asked gruffly.

"Young master should not answer the blood traitor's questions," Kreacher told the boy protectively.

The boy glanced at Kreacher before shrugging, "I'm eleven," he answered, causing the house elf to groan. Sirius let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. There was no way the kid could be his.

"You're my uncle," the boy smiled slightly as if answering his unasked question, "Sirius."

He had unknowingly been an uncle for eleven years. The boy's mother must have been someone Regulus met while he was supposedly in hiding. Neither of them would likely know anything about his past

"You're tall for your age," Sirius answered flatly, unwilling to acknowledge the abomination as family.

The boy furrowed his brow. His obvious confusion looked out of place with Regulus' features. "I hear that a lot," he agreed after a moment.

"Hear what?" He had been too distracted by his brother's face showing actual human emotion. How could anyone look that much like their father? It was disconcerting.

"… That I'm tall?" the boy answered, a smirk forming on his lips.

Kreacher suddenly let out a screech, drawing everyone's attention. He made a mad grab for the boy, but he took a quick step forward and turned just out of the elf's reach. The boy sniggered as Kreacher disappeared, failing to take him along as he was summoned away.

The newly discovered Black heir gave each of them a passing glance as if daring one of them to stop him as he began to look about the room properly. He clearly couldn't have been any less concerned about being left alone with his presumed fugitive uncle and those helping to keep him hidden.

Full of wonder, he took in every detail of the room. Amusement, surprise and disgust all displayed freely on his face with each new discovery. It wasn't until he picked up a tea cup and studied the embossed family crest that he adopted his father's preferred expression: impassive. Now that it wasn't obvious, Sirius found himself almost curious about what he was thinking. _They have the same china at home, perhaps?_

Tonks made an odd bouncing movement next to him. Sirius could tell she was about to burst with questions she wanted answered. The boy had only just seemed to notice the awkward silence for the first time when Bill came forward,

"I'm Bill Weasley," he told him, proffering his hand which he shook without hesitating. "You recognized Sirius. This is Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks."

"Just Tonks," she corrected, disguising her annoyance over the name for once. "If Sirius is really your uncle," she added doubtfully, "I believe that would make you my cousin- or perhaps second cousin would be more accurate?" she asked, turning to Remus for confirmation.

"Sadly, that may complicate things between the two of you," Bill grinned.

"There's also the age difference," the boy shrugged. "You're quite a lot older than eleven I would guess."

"Hey, I am closer to your age than I am Sirius'," she chided playfully.

Remus noticeably paled beside her and finished the remaining contents of his glass. Sirius might have found his reaction amusing if not for evidence of his brother's indiscretion standing before him.

He heard Tonks ask the boy his name. Half-expecting he would declare himself Regulus Junior, further proving his brother's arrogance, Sirius was annoyed when he declined answering at all.

"You seem nice and all, but I can't help but think there might be a reason we haven't met before," he smiled charmingly. Sirius scowled at his impertinence, ignoring who he reminded him of. "For instance, Kreacher was ordered to bring me here against my will. Some would call that kidnapping."

"Sirius didn't actually intend for you to be brought here," Remus attempted to explain. "It was a misunderstanding. I think he would agree it's best to get you back where you belong. Isn't that right, Sirius?"

"Wait," the boy pleaded before he could answer. "This is the first time I've ever seen where my father grew up. Can't I have a look around the rest of the place before going back?"

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look. Tonks decided she had waited long enough for answers. "I can't figure out how Sirius could possibly be your uncle," she remarked. "Regulus died when I was… six, I think? Several years before you were born."

"I would be more interested to know who your mother is," Sirius admitted.

The boy who refused to give his name was spared from answering either of them as a loud crack sounded. Kreacher had returned, looking utterly distraught at being accompanied by a teenage girl. Sirius doubted he was the only one gaping at her in disbelief. Her resemblance to the Black family was less pronounced than the boy's, but there was no denying the two were related. Sirius' head was beginning to ache.

"What are you doing here?" the boy demanded in outrage. Definitely siblings, Sirius decided.

"Please," Kreacher pleaded wretchedly. "Please let Kreacher take you back."

They ignored him.

"What am I doing here," the girl repeated haughtily. "I'm here to ensure you don't ruin _my_ _life_. Has it escaped your notice we've never been- who are you?" she demanded, catching sight of Tonks. Her eyes drifted from her to the rest of their bemused audience before settling on Sirius.

Despite having a lesser resemblance to the Black family, she elicited a more resentful feeling from Sirius than her brother, who only reminded him of Regulus. He could see his mother in the piercing way she looked at him. And Bellatrix. And everyone he hated from his family.

"That's cousin Tonks," the boy told her. "Bill Weasley, Remus Lupin, and Uncle Sirius," he smirked as he pointed out each of them accordingly.

"And you're the children without names," Sirius answered impatiently. "Are there any more of you?"

"Just us," the boy answered, giving his sister an unreadable look. "I don't guess there is any proper reason not to tell. I'm-" before he could finish the girl had extracted her wand and had him under the effect of a silencing charm in an instant.

He was obviously indignant of his situation though his protest was made silent by the spell. The house elf wailed, "Please, let Kreacher take you back."

"No reason to give away everything you know all at once," the girl corrected her silenced brother, ignoring Kreacher. "At least not before we get our own questions answered. What did you want with him?" she demanded of Sirius.

"We were just about to send him back-" Remus began calmly before Sirius interrupted angrily.

"Perhaps you should look around yourself before being so demanding _, little girl_. You're out-"

"Sirius!" Tonks screeched. "What are you doing?" He stopped abruptly, realizing he had been creeping towards the girl and had unthinkingly drawn his wand. Looking down, he saw Kreacher had stepped protectively in front of the children as well. Did they actually think he would curse a couple of kids?

"Kreacher," he growled. "Go stand in the corner and be quiet or I'll mount your head alongside your mother's."

"Don't talk to him like that!" the girl shouted indignantly.

"Everyone just calm down," Remus told them as he carefully stepped between Sirius and his apparent niece and nephew. A stampede of footsteps could be heard flocking down the stairs.

"We'll stop… whoever that is," Bill said, beckoning Tonks to follow him. She clearly wanted to object but he stopped her with a look.

After they had left the room, Remus remarked, "I think it would be for the best if Kreacher took the two of you back to- where is it that you came from?"

The girl raised an eyebrow, "Why would we tell you that?" she asked coolly.

As if on cue, the tip of her wand glowed bright blue. She sighed as a letter with fancy script expelled from the tip of it. Sirius tried to make out what it said but she snatched it out of the air and shoved it into the pocket of her robes. Not to be ignored, the letter began shouting in what sounded like rapid French from within her pocket. She didn't bother trying to muffle the sound. He guessed it wasn't the first warning she had ever received for underage magic.

It was clear she was trying to look unfazed by the development but her brother's obvious amusement was hard to ignore. Sirius almost ended the silencing spell on him. Since meeting his sister, he found the boy much more likeable in comparison.

"So you'll be headed back to France, I take it?" he couldn't help but smirk.

She scoffed, "Can you seriously not distinguish _Canadian_ French?"

Sirius studied her for a moment. It wasn't that she hadn't sounded believable, her disdain perfectly evident in her mannerisms. He could even pick up on the North American nuances in her voice. _Had they been there before?_ He glanced at the boy but he gave away nothing. If he was surprised by her claim to live in Canada he hid it well. It didn't seem right though.

"Why is it that the Canadian ministry utilizes French when the majority of its citizens speak English?"

"They use both," she answered smoothly. "French is the official language where we live. Naturally, the ministry would default to the language spoken in the province we reside."

"And your _English_ father chose to live in an area where _French_ is the primary language? Did he somehow miss the parts of the country where English is spoken?"

"It hardly matters when we speak French just as well."

"He must be so proud that you've inherited his penchant for lies and deception," Sirius remarked scathingly, drawing a disapproving look from Remus.

She shrugged unconcernedly, "Fine. Don't believe me. I expect you have enough problems of your own not to come looking for us anyway."

"I will find you just to prove you're lying," he threatened, surprising himself perhaps more than the teenager.

"Better bring a cloak when you come searching then. It gets cold back home," she taunted.

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, "Even in July?" He asked doubtfully.

She inclined her head slightly, "Year-round."

"There's no way my brother, who never could go outside in the winter without shivering, would live someplace that is cold year-round."

"It's a good thing you have a built-in fur coat to keep you from freezing then," she answered offhandedly. "Since you're too stubborn to listen to reason."

Sirius stared at her, stunned. This stranger-child knew he was an animagus, one of his most guarded secrets. When had Regulus even learned he had managed it? What else had he told his kids about him? And how old was this girl? Certainly older than her brother. Regulus had been believed dead for fifteen years and the boy claimed he was eleven. It had to be his imagination that there looked to be several years separating them in age.

He strained his ears to listen as the boy whispered something to his sister, his silencing charm finally ended.

"No! It's time to go," she snapped.

"When are we ever going to have another chance to see-?" the rest of his retort was muffled by his sister's hand over his mouth.

"I trust you can just forget you ever saw us here, seeing as it was all a mistake?" the girl inquired of Sirius more pleasantly. "We'll do the same. No one will hear from us where it is that you are hiding."

"Forget that my brother, who should be dead himself, saw it fit to bring children into the world?" Sirius asked incredulously. The boy glanced at his sister but she didn't seem to notice, staring coldly at Sirius instead. "Your father was so keen to tell you about my past. I'll bet you have no idea about his. The person he was when he was not much older than either of you," Sirius sneered. "He would hate for you to hear the things I know."

"We know all we need to know about who our father is," the boy answered, his tone absent of its previous warmth. He was the one to call for Kreacher then, no longer interested in the secrets Grimmauld Place held.

The house elf disapparated immediately and the three of them disappeared with a resounding 'crack'.

* * *

Regulus and Maliah quietly walked towards the door leading into their temporary residence.

"They'll have been on their best behavior this time," Regulus told his wife knowingly. "They want us to leave them alone more often. Once we trust them, that's when we'll be in trouble."

"You're so paranoid," Maliah sniggered. "I don't much care what they did." Regulus looked at her in surprise. "They already _have_ my trust," she explained innocently, as if it were obvious. He raised an eyebrow. "Well okay, not entirely, but it was nice to go out alone for once, wasn't it? Even if it was you who insisted on cutting the evening short this time."

By then they were just outside the door. Maliah sighed in exasperation as Regulus stood outside to listen rather than entering immediately.

"I just don't understand why you were so rude," he could hear Caelum say. "He's family- and he's never done anything to you."

"I'm happy with my life, Caelum! I don't want to move again." Regulus and Maliah exchanged glances.

"You can't even remember all of those times you moved before! You were a baby."

"Have you not noticed all of mum and dad's hushed conversations? Something has them nervous, and I'm not convinced this supposed holiday isn't just an excuse to keep us from remaining stationary… just like before."

"They wouldn't have left us alone tonight if-"

"What is that?" Carina shrieked suddenly.

"Ugh," Caelum stammered.

There was a moment of shuffling before they again heard Carina, "I cannot believe you took that. Get rid of it!"

Regulus unlocked the door then as Maliah half-heartedly chided him for being obvious about eavesdropping.

Carina was sitting cross-legged on the sofa when they entered the room, flipping through a magazine; Caelum was idly surfing through the stations on the telly. Both looked casual enough that they could have been sitting there all night- which was exactly what they wanted them to believe.

"Oh hey mum, dad," Carina smiled brightly. "You're back earlier than expected."

"Why do you sound out of breath?" Regulus asked suspiciously.

"Do I? Must be the change in altitude," she answered, nonchalantly turning another page in her magazine. "I've had a bit of a headache too."

Regulus glanced at Maliah and could tell she was thinking the same thing. If she had suffered any altitude sickness since leaving home it would have resolved by now as they were farther from the mountains. She had also never had altitude sickness in her life.

"Where's Kreacher?" Maliah asked, noticing his absence.

"He said something about going to bed a while ago," Carina answered, turning another page in the magazine. Caelum was still flipping through the channels with the remote control though barely looking at the screen.

"I see," Regulus answered simply. Carina and Caelum both glanced at him. Carina had once told him those two words at the start of a sentence never made for a happy conversation.

"Anything interesting happen while we were gone?" Maliah inquired, looking between the two of them.

"Nope," Carina answered, exaggerating the popping sound at the end of the word as she pretended to be reading.

"Don't lie, Carina," Caelum scolded her suddenly. "She got bored and took to insulting Kreacher. I told her to stop but does she ever listen?" he asked exasperatedly. "She cast a silencing charm on me because she knew I was right and didn't want to hear it. Oh, and she got a letter from the ministry for using magic. We owe another fine."

His attempt at sounding regretful would have been convincing if not for the slight upturn of his lip giving him away.

Carina looked positively livid at his outburst.

"Anything you'd like to add?" Regulus asked her disappointedly.

"I- was _not_ insulting Kreacher. You can ask him. I did cast a silencing spell on Caelum but it was nothing compared to what he deserved." Regulus raised an eyebrow and she amended. "I shouldn't have done it. But he deserved it! And I thought… I thought there would be enough protections to cover the spell."

"You know better than that, Carina. The French ministry binds the wands of those underage to those of their parents. If you cast magic without either your mother or me around and you're not at school, they have no choice but to assume you are out of compliance with the restriction of underage magic."

"It's too bad we can't live in one of those homes specifically warded against such detection," she remarked in an effort of sounding offhanded. "Oh wait, we do. We just aren't there right now-"

"Fortunately, there is another solution to keep you from breaking the decree before we return," he told her flatly.

Carina faltered slightly, then held her hands up as if to emphasize innocence, "I cannot believe I am the one being punished for this," she answered bitterly. She glared at Caelum who had become suddenly interested in a random soap opera.

"Who would you have us to punish, Carina? You've admitted to casting a spell on Caelum. Even without regard to the ministry, you've broken a house rule."

Looking as if she would much prefer to toss the wand across the room instead, she dragged her feet towards them until she was close enough to hand her wand to Regulus. After dropping it in his hand, she turned on her heel without another word and retreated to her bedroom, sending one last scathing look at her brother as she went.

Regulus watched her until she was out of sight. His eyes fell to Caelum after a moment who was still watching the television with rapt interest.

"Do you have any idea what they are saying?" He asked after a moment.

Caelum glanced at him, "I'm learning Italian," he defended.

With a flick of her wand, Maliah turned off the show. "Not watching that you won't," she told him distastefully.

Regulus left them to find Kreacher, intent to find out exactly what had happened in their absence. He had a bad feeling some of the finer details had been conveniently left out.


	10. Brothers Quarrel

Regulus found Kreacher huddled on his bed beneath the cupboard, shivering despite the warmth of the enclosed space. Maliah had joined them just after seeing Caelum off to bed. Convincing the house elf to tell what had taken place in their absence took next to no effort.

It was fortunate for Sirius that Regulus had been able to convince Maliah to stay home with Carina and Caelum while he met with his brother. She was furious at him for threatening Carina; summoning Caelum had been bad enough. Regulus knew her anger would not be short-lived, and did not envy Sirius should the two ever cross paths, no matter how much time passed in between.

Regulus had been just as livid at first, but he couldn't be fueled by Maliah's righteous fury. The more time that passed, the more his mind cleared. That Sirius would raise a wand to a child was proof of how much had changed- and yet how little. He hadn't nearly attacked some random kid, but _his_ daughter. Carina would have borne the curse, but the offense would have been meant for Regulus.

The downfall of his relationship with Sirius had been their inability to communicate. He didn't need his brother in his life anymore; they had lived fewer years being in contact with each other than not. But it would make things easier if he could gain his brother's cooperation. Attacking him, no matter how much he wanted to, would only guarantee the opposite.

After giving Kreacher every order imaginable to ensure their children nor Maliah could be summoned by Sirius, he commanded his elf to take him to Grimmauld Place. He half-expected to find his brother asleep given the late hour. The sun would rise soon, but Sirius hadn't yet been to bed.

To his own chagrin, he had been waiting for Sirius across the hall in _his_ old bedroom for what felt like hours. He was beginning to worry he had been wrong to think Sirius would continue sleeping in his old bedroom when he heard footsteps coming up the staircase. _Finally._

He mentally counted each footstep he heard from the last landing, knowing there were only eight steps remaining between there and the top level of Grimmauld Place _. Five. Six. Sev-_

 _Did he bump into the wall_?

"Argh," he heard Sirius grumble, followed by stumbling, a muffled crash; cursing.

Regulus was tempted to open the door to see what was going on. Hearing him begin to climb again, he resumed his counting. _Seven. Eight. Nine? Ten? How many steps had he fallen down?_

He waited until he heard the door across the hall creak open, then slipped into the hallway. Sirius left his door slightly ajar. Regulus followed him in, quietly shutting it behind him. Oblivious to his presence, Sirius continued his haphazard trek towards the bed. He got a bit tangled in a pile of robes lying in the floor but managed to keep his balance this time.

The entire room smelt of alcohol and something rotten. For a moment Regulus worried it was Sirius, until he saw a stack of assorted dishware covered with old food in the corner. _Should that be reassuring_?

If the amount of rubbish piled about was any indication, it was difficult to contest Dumbledore's belief that Harry was better off under someone else's care. Regulus averted his eyes from the mess, focusing on his brother who had just laid his wand on the night stand.

"I hear you met the kids," he announced, not quite able to keep the edge out of his voice.

Sirius instantly grabbed for the wand he had just laid down. Regulus sent it skittering across the room. He turned abruptly, anger helping to sober him for the moment.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, halving the distance between them in two long strides. His eyes were bloodshot and it looked as if it had been days since he last slept.

"You can't actually believe you would have any chance against me in your current state," Regulus answered, casually returning his wand to his pocket as if to demonstrate how miniscule he believed the threat.

Sirius stopped just short of grabbing him- eyeing him, sizing him up.

"I don't need to be sober to kick your arse," he warned. More hesitantly he added, "There's also a house full of Order members downstairs."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, Sirius. Just tell me what you told the others."

"You can't expect me to lie to protect your illegitimate brats, Regulus! I only wish I could have witnessed the scandal you avoided. Was it mum's idea for you to fake your death, rather she die in shame?"

"If mother had known about either of them, you never would have been re-inherited," Regulus reminded him.

"More likely, you would have been un-inherited. Oh, the shame you brought upon this _noble_ house-!" he mocked their mother in a bit of a shout. Regulus cast a glance at the door of the bedroom. He was glad for the sound barrier that had always been kept between the third and fourth levels of the house, but didn't know if it would be enough to prevent a werewolf's keen hearing if things got out of hand.

"I really doubt it, but it scarcely matters now."

"How is it that of all rubbish lessons father taught us, the basic concept of where _babies come from_ is the one that escaped your mind? How stupid can you be?"

"Who else knows about them?" Regulus asked impatiently, ignoring the insult.

"Why? So you can alter their memories while they sleep? I think I'll keep that bit of information to myself."

Regulus balled his hands into fists to keep from drawing his wand. He preferred to be diplomatic, but it was taking all of the restraint he had not to curse him, or worse, resort to muggle methods of fighting. He spoke slowly, emphasizing each word, "Hear me, Sirius. This isn't a game. There isn't any sort of prank involved here. They are children. They have nothing to do with any wrong I've done in my past."

"Aside from not preventing their existence in the first place," Sirius sneered.

"They are innocent," he answered with forced calm. "They deserve the opportunity to hold on to that, not to be dragged into an upcoming war that has nothing to do with them."

"Well they certainly don't act innocent, do they? That girl of yours-"

"Had never stepped foot on British soil until Kreacher appeared from nowhere, took her brother and left her alone without any explanation. By the time she called Kreacher back, he was distraught about having left her brother behind." His hand twitched, aching to reach for his wand, " _You nearly attacked her_ ," he reminded him through gritted teeth. "You would be mad to have expected a warm reception."

"I was never going to attack her. Not that she wouldn't have deserved it if it happened. Tell me, how is Canada this time of year?"

"You can't blame her for being cautious, Sirius, she's a Black-"

" _Don't_ remind me," He warned. "No family has ever deserved to die out more than ours, yet surprise! I can't even believe how selfish you are."

Regulus pursed his lips, "The family name _will_ die with you in this country if that's your decision. I'm believed dead – you're all that's left. I only want to keep my family safe."

"You act as if they were discovered by death eaters rather than members of the Order!"

"Do you have any idea how much of Voldemort's information _came_ from Order members the last time?"

"The fact that you _know_ that," Sirius retorted indignantly, "You have yourself to blame for whatever happens to them!"

"You already know that too, Sirius. Pettigrew-" at the mention of his old friend's name, he immediately had to duck to avoid Sirius' fist.

"Are you incapable of having a rational conversation?" he demanded, shoving him away.

"You think _I'm_ irrational?" Sirius half-slurred, rising to his full height to accentuate his slight height advantage. "You're the one who faked your death!" He began smacking him repeatedly- on his arm, the side of his head- each hit only hard enough to be annoying, trying to make him retaliate. If not for it being Sirius' most obnoxious habit when they were young, he might have thought someone had charmed him to repeat the motion continuously. It was as if he had reverted back to being eight years old.

"Grow up," Regulus chided, swatting him away. "You know as well as I do, my death only meant one less death eater for you to worry about."

Sirius retracted his arm suddenly. "You're right about that," he admitted coldly, his hands clenching into fists at his side. "The only good thing that came out of the last war, and it was a lie."

Regulus hesitated a fraction of a second, just long enough to ensure his voice would be steady and face impassive, "Tell me what I need to know and it'll again be as if I died, fifteen years ago," he answered quietly.

Sirius shoved him into the wall angrily, "You are such a bloody hypocrite!" he shouted in his face, offering a generous whiff of his rancid breath. "You want to protect your spoiled brat children but don't hesitate to look in on Harry to satisfy your own interests! Don't pretend you weren't there. Your scent is too… _repugnant_ not to recognize!"

Regulus thought it ironic for him to be talking about odors. He was supposed to be the rational one of the two, but his ability to reason with Sirius had always been dreadful at best.

Sirius shook him, demanding, "Why were you there?"

"I don't know, Sirius. Checking on him just felt like the right thing to do."

"Do you actually expect me to believe that? Doing the right thing has _never_ been your priority. The only reason you wanted to check on him is because you knew it would piss me off. You always do this!"

"Don't you think enough has changed since the last time we properly knew each other to stop pretending we still do? You're not the same person you were, nor am I. How could we be?"

Sirius' inner turmoil was evident. There was a craving for- something. To hear more, maybe? To try to understand him? Whatever other inclination, it was battling a lifelong desire to beat his younger brother to a pulp. The effect of the alcohol couldn't be helping.

"I see nothing different about you," Sirius answered in a strained voice. "You're arrogant and deceitful. The same traits are evident in your children... I expect mother would even concede to claim them if she were here."

"You see only what you expect is there, Sirius. I am not the person I was when I left."

Sirius regarded him warily, "Everyone says you got in too deep and wanted out," he paused, waiting for him to deny it.

He didn't.

Sirius sneered, "You found a way to leave when you could have just as easily stayed and _fought back._ "

"I did what I had to do."

Sirius looked at him in disbelief, "You could have come to _me_ , fought _with_ _us_ against Voldemort. You didn't have to leave. You just… ran away."

Regulus didn't bother to hide his own disdain.

"Come to _you_ , Sirius? You would have helped _me?_ Is this how you spent your time in Azkaban? Deluding yourself with notions that your brother would still be alive if only he would have _let_ you save him? You don't trust me now, you sure as hell wouldn't have then!"

"Did you just ask me how I spent my time in Azkaban?" Sirius roared, punching him, this time making contact. "You're the one who should have been there!" He swung at him again. It was difficult to avoid the onslaught, being stuck against the wall; Regulus' arm took the brunt of the impact. "Instead you were running away from your past, living it up- Making _baby-mamas_ left and right. How many do you have anyway?" He aimed another blow. Regulus grabbed his arm this time, pulling it towards him. Sirius lost his balance, tripping over Regulus' feet.

Regulus tackled him, "She's my _wife_ ," He snarled, punching him on the nose and again in the mouth. Blood seemed to be spurting from everywhere, from Sirius' nose and lip, as well as some from Regulus, nastily dripping over him, and running down the sides of his face. Regulus hadn't even realized he was bleeding. Sirius gagged as he tried to shove Regulus off of him. He wouldn't budge.

"And you threatened my daughter," he drew his wand. Sirius narrowed his eyes,

"I guess you aren't so domesticated after all," he jeered, eyeing the wand pointed in his face, "Less reformed than you would have me to believe. A death eater would never attack without the advantage. I'm not even armed- you saw to that."

"I don't have the luxury of _playing fair_ , Sirius. I left Voldemort at the height of his power; became a father before turning nineteen," he ignored the choked growl that escaped Sirius. "My family has been safe for fifteen years. But I can't protect them from Voldemort and his _legions_ of death eaters if they are found out," he admitted. "You can choose to help me, or not- there is nothing I won't do to keep their existence hidden."

"And what do you think you're going to do? Place memory charms on everyone that you deem knows too much? What about me? Do you intend to alter my memories?" he demanded as he futilely tried to unseat Regulus, still perched on his chest.

"That's up to you, but I won't ask again. What did you tell the others about my children? Who knows about them?"

Sirius sighed heavily, "Get off of me." Regulus studied him for a moment. Realizing it was his last chance for Sirius to willingly help him, he stood slowly, careful to avoid tripping over the pile of books they had unsettled.

Sirius got to his feet hurriedly and immediately scoped out the room, obviously looking for his wand.

"Well?" Regulus asked impatiently.

"Tonks and Bill are the only others who know about them besides Remus," Sirius answered resignedly. "Some of the others in the house heard our… talking in the kitchen and came down – Tonks and Bill met them, pretended to be having an argument. They were able to keep everyone else away until after Kreacher took your kids back home. Molly told Bill to go home – that's her son, and she insisted Tonks go to bed. No one else saw them."

Regulus had already known from Kreacher who had seen his children. What he hadn't known is who had been told about them after Kreacher left.

"What do you intend to tell them when they ask?"

"They heard your son refer to me as his uncle," at his look, he added hastily, "You've got nothing to worry about, both of them are trustworthy."

Regulus refrained from commenting on how Sirius' trust in Pettigrew had backfired. "Where can I find them?" he asked instead.

Sirius studied him for a moment. He looked a mess with his nose and lip busted, and drying blood covering much of his face. Regulus guessed he didn't look much better. "You won't. Nor should you try." Regulus' grip tightened on his wand. "If you want me to believe you are different you have to _act_ differently. You can't expect me to trust you if you don't first trust me – I have far more reason to doubt you."

Regulus stared at him, "You aren't in any position to bargain."

"And you have far more to lose than I do," Sirius pointed out, scarcely hiding his own bitterness. Regulus raised his wand, poised to strike. "Is this how things end then, Reg? You take away my memories of seeing you alive; allow me to believe you died a coward?" Regulus hesitated. He could think of several alternatives that would be worse. It was obvious Sirius was just buying for more time, his eyes flitting towards the direction his wand was last seen. Regulus might have done it, if not for Sirius' eyes focusing on him then, suddenly less interested in finding his wand; watching him intently, "Why did you really leave?"

"I learned I was to be a father," he answered after a moment, omitting a large chunk of the truth. "My situation at the time wasn't going to be conducive to parenting- so I left."

"Right… so you just said, 'hey boss, I'm done with this,' and Voldemort let you go on your happy way?"

"Of course not, I've already told you, he thinks I'm dead. The less you know of the details the better, Sirius."

"So, when you left, it wasn't Voldemort that you changed your mind about. It was because you were going to be a father," Sirius shook his head in disappointment. "Who's their mother?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow slightly, wondering if he had been asked a genuine question. The resemblance between Carina and Maliah was enough it should have been obvious given their past relationship. "I'm not telling you that," he answered finally. At Sirius' look he added, "You're only asking to satisfy idle curiosity. There's no benefit in you knowing."

"Did I not just tell you, you would have to trust me if you wanted my help?"

"You told my daughter you would hunt down our family. That doesn't bode a strong feeling of trust."

"There is something you aren't telling me," Sirius remarked, watching him carefully. "It doesn't make sense for you to have left just because you got some witch pregnant, unless – she can't be a muggleborn."

Regulus almost objected immediately on principle but stopped himself. Denying such an accusation vehemently could prove counterproductive to convincing Sirius he had changed.

Sirius' eyes widened in surprise, "I take back what I said; mother would _not_ concede to claim them." _Was that pride in his tone?_ Regulus thought it might have been but ignored it, along with his guilt for allowing him to believe an incorrect assumption.

"You would agree to help keep my family a secret because their mother is muggleborn," Regulus remarked blandly. Leave it to Sirius to promote the exact opposite of pureblood supremacy.

"I- maybe," he answered, suddenly suspicious. "You still haven't told me all I need to know. How did you know where Harry lived? Why did you feel the need to check on him?"

"I just wanted to make sure he was safe," he answered vaguely, "I wasn't sure if you had been able to check on him with the ministry being after you and all."

"Oh, how thoughtful," Sirius answered amusedly. "I've been stuck here, so you took it upon yourself to check on my godson," More irritably, he added, "Of course you did. He's the boy-who-lived. Naturally, you're desperate enough to rally behind anyone in the hope they can protect you from the big bad maniac you used to worship. Anything to keep you from getting your own hands dirty."

Regulus' own anger was beginning stir again. Sirius had wasted so much time going back and forth, undecided on whether or not to be reasonable. If it were possible, it wasn't even his lack of helpfulness that bothered him most.

He realized he was angry at Sirius for what he had settled for since leaving Azkaban. The Sirius from their youth would have never returned to Grimmauld Place, much less confine himself to it. The brother he remembered never listened to anything anyone told him, he certainly wouldn't have allowed someone to dictate how he lived his life. _He_ never would have let his orphaned godson be raised by neglectful muggles.

"He's just a kid," he answered evenly, "who lost his parents. And as unfortunate as it is already, it's made even worst, because the one person they trusted to take care of him, can't even take care of himself."

Sirius lunged at him. He would have expected nothing less. Regulus landed on a pile of books, and quickly rolled as Sirius tried to pummel him. Before either of them could gain an advantage over the other, Sirius' bedroom door was blasted open, admitting Remus Lupin and a young woman with bubblegum pink hair.

Each of them cast stunning spells. Regulus deflected Lupin's, recalling with chagrin that he did in fact still have his wand. Sirius rolled out of the way of the woman's spell. Regulus suspected she might be Andy's daughter as she looked vaguely familiar. Whoever she was, she seemed amused by the scene she was walking into; Lupin not so much.


	11. Captivity

Sirius climbed to his feet and instinctively moved away from Regulus. Tonks and Remus each had their wands trained on the younger Black, the latter wisely choosing to disarm him. Sirius took Regulus' proffered wand from Remus as he passed him on his way to retrieve his own. He knew it would be faster simply to summon his wand from the mess, but in looking manually he allowed himself a moment to steady his breathing and regain some semblance of composure.

As he was extracting his wand from the pile of robes it had landed in earlier, he heard Tonks ask,

"Who are you?"

It seemed evident as he rejoined her and Remus, that she might've noticed the resemblance between him and Regulus as she kept looking between the two of them. Remus was focused solely on Regulus, more so than necessary considering he was unarmed and outnumbered. Sirius suspected he didn't want to admit to Tonks that he already knew Regulus, a known death eater, was alive and free. There was something odd going on with the two of them, but now wasn't the time to ponder it.

He was annoyed but unsurprised Regulus hadn't bothered answering her question.

"You remember I had a brother," he remarked as he examined his wand, half-convinced Regulus would have done something to ruin it, "The death eater who was killed when he wanted out?" Satisfied his wand was still in working condition he met Tonks' gaze, "Turns out that story is only half true."

Regulus quirked an eyebrow, "You've come to accept I'm no longer a death eater then, have you?" The irony in his tone easily conveyed that his opinion of him was nothing more than a trivial matter.

Sirius took the time to stem the bleeding from his nose and siphon the blood from his face before answering, "Death eater or not, I don't trust you."

Regulus chuckled darkly, "No, I'd expect not."

It grated on Sirius' nerves that his brother was acting more like someone with the misfortune of being caught in one of their Hogwarts' pranks, rather than a criminal deserving of prison, about to receive his comeuppance. He felt the need to remind him of his predicament, no matter he could never willingly deliver him to such a fate.

He sneered, "You're awfully arrogant for someone on the brink of going to Azkaban."

"What are you going to do, Sirius? Contact the ministry, tell them your _dead_ brother is here, waiting for pickup? At best, you'll be in Azkaban right beside me."

Sensing Sirius' impending outburst, Remus intervened calmly, "Not everyone here is wanted by the ministry. Do not think because you are Sirius' brother we will not have you arrested."

"You should know, I am an auror," Tonks added.

Regulus looked at her then, straightening his posture, "Are you?" his tone was patronizing enough Sirius thought of how pleased it would have made their mother. "Cousin Andromeda must be _so_ proud," he crooned. Just as Sirius was about to curse the smirk right off of his arrogant face, it instantly faded, replaced by genuine curiosity, "How is your mother?"

"I believe you are the one who should be answering questions," Tonks answered coolly. If she was surprised he knew who she was, it didn't show.

"How is it you came to be here, Regulus?" Lupin inquired without missing a beat. "Substantial protections on this house were added since we last saw you."

Tonks looked at him in surprise but must have realized it was better not to interrupt.

"No one has shown interest in getting into this house in over fifteen years," Regulus answered slowly. "Why the sudden need for more protection?"

Sirius wanted to tell Regulus exactly what Grimmauld Place was being used for, and with no small amount of smugness. It was only due to Dumbledore's Fidelius charm that the words didn't come. Instead he taunted, "If you wanted to stay privy to the uses of this house, you should have thought twice before allowing mummy to believe you died. How did you get in here?"

Regulus gave him an ironic look, "If you wanted to know all of the passages into this house, perhaps you shouldn't have ran away before learning them."

A slew of hexes flashed through Sirius' mind as he tightened his grip on his wand. It occurred to him he already knew of one method of entry that needed to be addressed, "Kreacher," he growled.

Regulus' lip twitched, "That's one way in."

"That's the only way left, you arrogant prat. It was only overlooked because I thought Kreacher was dead." He almost called for Kreacher then to rectify the oversight. Recalling the only thing more irritating than Regulus by himself was Regulus in the company of the adoring, sniveling house elf who clung to his every word, Sirius refrained from summoning him.

"The house elf will have to be addressed," Remus supplied. "I admit I don't have enough experience with elves to know what to do about him."

"I'll have to free him," Sirius concluded.

"You can't free him," Regulus objected tersely.

"Why? Because he is too old to survive it?" Sirius asked callously, "All good things must end eventually."

"And what if it doesn't kill him? He would never live as a free elf and he knows too much to allow him to be adopted by another family – you must realize who he would seek out."

 _Narcissa,_ Sirius thought contemptuously. "I can see why _you_ would be concerned with him seeking out the Malfoy's since he's been living with your family all this time. He doesn't know anything relevant about anyone else."

"He has spent more time in this house than either one of us," Regulus countered. "Whatever purpose you had in returning here – for adding protections, you can be sure he already knows about it."

"There are memory charms-" Sirius began to argue before trailing off as Regulus' words registered. "He's been spying on us, of course! How else could you have found my godson?"

"I expect that the Potter boy lives in Surrey isn't nearly the secret you think it is," Regulus drawled. Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus. "Vernon Dursley is listed in the telephone directory. Anyone with an ounce of familiarity with the muggle world would have no difficulty in finding him." He looked from Remus to Tonks, "I expect you're already aware that wizards aren't the only ones who keep records of their bloodlines."

"We should call for Dumbledore," Remus announced solemnly, drawing the attention of three sets of gray eyes. His eyes settled on Tonks momentarily, and he wondered whether her sudden resemblance to the Black family had been intentional or reflexive. He looked away from her guiltily, addressing Sirius, "I realized the Dursley's were easily located by muggle methods, of course, but few purebloods would…" he gave Regulus an odd look, "It wouldn't hurt to revisit Harry's protections."

"Why is he even there?" Regulus asked conversationally, much to Sirius' annoyance.

"Why are you asking questions about my godson as if you are entitled to know anything about him?"

"He would be safer here-"

"That sounds awfully suspicious coming from a _reformed_ death eater who managed to find a way in here," Sirius bit out, emphasizing the word 'reformed' as if not entirely convinced it was true.

"And yet-"

"Dumbledore's opinion of where he is safest holds more clout than anything you've said to me in your life," Sirius only realized he had been inching closer to Regulus with each word when Remus stopped him. "Mind your own business when it comes to my godson."

"You can't deny it's odd he requires a guard while _safe_ among the muggles." He scrunched his nose, "Can you really call it a guard? Imagine if someone were to drive up and ask Harry if he wanted to… do _anything_. Go anywhere. He would leave there without hesitation. He's miserable. I could see it within seconds of meeting him."

"I cannot fathom why you went to the trouble of meeting Harry in the first place," Remus stated, having drawn the obvious conclusion.

Sirius snorted, "He doubts my abilities as Harry's godfather and felt obligated to ensure he is safe."

Remus' expression became impassive, "Well you clearly did your research. It must have been a lot of trouble to arrange a dinner with the Dursley's. You met him as he was leaving the park, did you not? It seems it would have saved you a lot of trouble if you would have simply met with him there if you wanted to check on him rather than involving his family."

"Meeting his guardians gave better insight into his home life." He looked as if he might say more on the matter before glancing at Sirius and thinking better of it. "There's also the fact that the greatest dark wizard of our lifetime has recently returned – using Harry to do so. I can't imagine he wouldn't have been suspicious of a grown man showing up in his neighborhood with no apparent reason for being there aside from talking to him."

"You showed up in a car," Sirius pointed out as if he still couldn't believe it. "You had good cover for being a muggle."

"Muggle or not, a grown man generally should not be seeking out a child. Better to endure a dinner with muggles than potential ramifications from that," Regulus answered dryly.

"Well, there's the progressive thinking you alluded to earlier," Sirius derided. In a slow voice much like a young child might use, he mimicked, " _Muggles are not as bad as pedophiles_. What else have you learned in the past _twenty_ years?"

"Sirius," Remus chided as Tonks stifled a grin. "Perhaps it would be more prudent to contact Dumbledore. No doubt he will have his own questions for Regulus and he can guide us where Kreacher is concerned."

"We don't need Dumbledore to resolve Kreacher's ownership," Regulus told them. "I won't have him being used to summon members of my family, just as I don't expect you want him being able to come here as he pleases. That's one of two reasons why I came here in the first place."

Remus narrowed his eyes, "What is the other reason?"

Regulus met his gaze, "No doubt Voldemort will seek to re-establish old alliances first, but it is only a matter of time before he will resume his former agenda. Should the truth of what I've done come out…" he visibly paled though his expression didn't change, "I'm hopeful we can agree a couple of children, who know nothing of Britain, have no reason to be dragged into whatever shall play out here."

"If you were seeking the protection of the Order, you surely would have sought out Dumbledore as you must know he is the only one with the authority to offer it," Tonks remarked. "What is it exactly that you are wanting from us?" she asked carefully.

"He wants your memories," Sirius told her dismissively, "Unfortunately for him, he's outnumbered three to one." He turned to Regulus, "Also, it would appear you don't have a wand, and therefore have no means to negotiate."

"But what is there to negotiate in regards to children?" Tonks asked, "We have no reason to alert the death eaters, and it isn't like we are in direct contact with any of them even if we wanted to… well," she amended.

"Dumbledore will have his spy," Regulus answered as if reading her mind. "Look, I don't trust any of you, no more than you would trust me. But the fact is, you know I'm alive, and worse, you've seen that I have children. Obviously, I'm at a disadvantage here," he admitted, holding his hands up to reveal they were empty. "Tell me what I need to do to continue to be thought dead by everyone else, and we can all get on with our lives, never again for our paths to meet."

Sirius stared at him, "No, see the problem with that is, you know where to find us, but want to leave here without a trace. We don't benefit from that exchange, and if anyone is going to benefit from this… it isn't going to be you. There's also the little problem that you were a death eater."

"What is it you think I have that could possibly benefit any of you?"

"You have information about Voldemort," Remus announced suddenly. For all of Regulus' feigned disinterest, he looked genuinely surprised by that statement. "As a former death eater, you're bound to know _something_ that is beneficial to the Order. You couldn't have betrayed him without protecting your mind. You could lie to us just as easily, but you won't be able to lie to Dumbledore. A meeting with him is the cost of our silence."

Regulus scoffed, "And only then if Dumbledore is agreeable to those terms."

Remus turned to Sirius as if the choice was up to him. He considered the proposal. He didn't like it, but he couldn't find fault with it either. Dumbledore was bound to be more efficient in getting answers from Regulus than they were. He was also a reasonable man and would give him the chance to prove his – well, Regulus certaintly wasn't innocent. Perhaps if he could prove he regretted his past decisions, it would be enough for Dumbledore not to send him to Azkaban. He had been outspoken about the inhumane conditions of the prison in the past. He glanced at Regulus and forced a smirk, "As you said, you're the one at a disadvantage here."

* * *

Being held captive in his childhood bedroom by the daughter of his estranged cousin, is not what Regulus had expected when he returned to Grimmauld Place. The woman called Tonks had insisted she could not endure the smell of Sirius' bedroom for another moment without becoming ill and was apparently rubbish with cleaning spells. As such, the two of them had been steered across the hallway while Sirius and Remus contacted Dumbledore. For reasons unknown to anyone, it had required both men to complete the simple task.

Within seconds of being alone, Regulus realized Tonks wasn't the quiet sort. She collapsed onto the edge of his childhood bed and let out an enormous sigh the moment the door closed behind Sirius."I used to think I'd like a sibling. I'll have to remember to thank my parents for knowing better."

Regulus recalled that he used to wonder how different Sirius' relationship with their parents would've been if he were an only child. It had been their pride that allowed him to escape to the Potter's. A second son to bestow their legacy kept them from making any effort to bring him back home. If not for him, they likely would've had more tolerance of Sirius' differences from the beginning.

Apparently her statement hadn't been quite as rhetorical as Regulus assumed. When he didn't answer, she cleared her throat loudly causing him to look at her. He gave a longsuffering sigh and averted his eyes, but then couldn't stop the flood of memories that everything in the room always brought forth. He pulled the chair out from beneath the desk and sat down, intent to stare at the carpet directly in front of him to avoid the memories and awkward conversation until Dumbledore arrived.

"Do you want me to help you- err, with your face?" Tonks asked after a moment.

He pinched the now-crooked bridge of his nose and withheld a groan. "Can't I do it myself?"

"And give you the chance to alter my memories _and_ escape?" she smirked, "No thanks. Seriously though, I don't like blood. I'm fixing your face whether you like it or not."

Regulus grimaced, but didn't bother to object as the previously miniscule discomfort he felt from the injury intensified the moment he was reminded of it. Perhaps worse was the sticky sensation from the drying blood.

He forced himself not to flinch as the self-proclaimed auror who deemed herself unqualified to clean Sirius' bedroom aimed her wand inches from his face. Recognizing the very hot followed by cold sensation, he instinctively raised a hand to trace the bridge of his nose.

"Much better," she confirmed as she siphoned away the drying blood.

"Thanks," he muttered.

She shrugged distractedly, having become interested in his room. She gave a passing glance at what was readily displayed, making the occasional comment when something caught her attention. Twice, she turned her back on him entirely. Regulus easily could have attacked her either time. Even now it wouldn't take much to overpower her. Auror or not, he knew he was more experienced, his age and past years as a death eater ensured it.

She turned his back on him for a third time and it took all of the restraint he had not to rip the wand from her hand and – then what? Escape his childhood home only to elicit a search party from the Order? No. No matter how humiliating being held prisoner was, he would endure it.

He had once been willing to die in effort to bring down Voldemort. His priorities had changed in the years since, but he owed it to that shadow of a person he was when he was willing to lose everything, to ensure those still willing to fight knew what they were up against. As Lupin said, he did have information about Voldemort. He would share it with Dumbledore for the price of being forgotten. His family was safest when he was believed dead. He faltered slightly at the realization that he wouldn't get a chance to improve his relationship with his brother if he managed to convince Dumbledore to alter his memories.

' _If you want me to believe you are different you have to act differently_ ,' he recalled Sirius' words guiltily.

Movement in his peripheral caught his attention and he found Tonks was looking between him and a picture of the Slytherin quidditch team from his seventh year. It was obvious she was comparing how much he had changed. He expected she would ask who the others in the picture were. As several of them were either dead or in Azkaban, he was glad when she moved on from the picture without comment.

After having seen everything else, she approached the newspaper clippings hanging on the wall. Perhaps it was because she was Andy's daughter he felt the need to disclose, "I hung those when I was fourteen," he scoffed. "Anything to piss Sirius off."

"Voldemort is going to _unify_ wizarding Britain," she concluded bemusedly.

"Mm, ambitious," he answered. She looked as if she had more to say on the matter, which prompted a quick subject change from Regulus. "You are Andromeda's daughter," he remarked, despite the obviousness of the statement.

"I prefer to be called Tonks rather than Andromeda's daughter."

"If I recall, there was a name your mother always liked," he smiled slightly at the memory. "Nymphadora, I think it was."

"Don't call me that, _EVER_ ," she warned him.

His eyes widened slightly, "Is that really your name?" He tried not to laugh at her expression but failed miserably.

She gave him a murderous look, "Oh, yes. It's very amusing."

"It could be worse," he told her. "It's just that… Narcissa _hated_ that name. Anytime she could convince Andy to play dolls with her, they would end up getting into it because Andy would insist on naming one of them well… you know."

" _Nymphadora?"_ she guessed irritably.

"It's a perfectly respectable name," he defended guiltily.

"That's really reassuring coming from a death-" she coughed unconvincingly, "From someone named _Regulus,"_ she amended quickly _._

He shrugged lightly, "Blacks are required to give their children abhorrent names," he laughed dryly. "Not even Andy was immune."

"Ridiculous considering she was disowned," she answered bitterly. "What about you?"

He furrowed his brow, "I was never disowned."

"I meant the names of your children. You said Blacks are required to give their children abhorrent names, even my mother. Were you including yourself as well?"

Regulus hesitated, "I happen to be fond of tradition," he answered after a moment.

Her jaw dropped slightly, "You could have kept with the Black's theme of astronomy and still named them something halfway normal," she snapped almost angrily. "Regulus is in the Leo constellation. I won't point out the irony there."

"Thank you…"

"Why couldn't you have named your son Leo? He would have made a nice Leo."

"Who says I didn't-?"

"And a moon of Uranus would have been better than anything you named your daughter – Ariel, Bianca, Cordelia, Juliet, Miranda," she raised a finger on her left hand as she listed each name. "I don't much like Ophelia but even that would have been better than a stupid constellation."

"I – think you might be taking this a bit too personally," Regulus commented, both amused and slightly alarmed.

Their conversation was downhill from there as Tonks took finding out his children's names quite seriously and he was equally determined to avoid disclosing anything about them. Regulus found himself casting furtive glances in the direction of the door on several occasions.

When the door finally did open, it was without warning, and it wasn't Dumbledore as he had been expecting. Instead it was Sirius, who quickly dismissed Tonks with the explanation that Mrs. Weasley needed her assistance.

* * *

"Expelliarmus," Sirius cast suddenly, not convinced Regulus wasn't carrying a spare wand.

Regulus gave him an exasperated look, "If I were carrying a second wand, surely you don't expect it would have been left unprotected."

His word choice made Sirius consider pushing the matter further, but realized if Regulus did have a wand stashed away he couldn't get to it without his notice. He also really didn't want to frisk his brother. Instead he sat down heavily on the bed facing him. Despite having been up all night, his exhaustion wasn't from a lack of sleep. Until a few days ago, he thought Regulus died fifteen years ago. He had mourned his brother's death, even blamed himself for it on some of his darkest days. He had spent so much time convincing himself he was really gone, he almost thought it would be easier to continue believing he was dead at this point. He had little doubt that if Regulus managed to get his way, he would go back to believing as much.

He couldn't stand the awkward silence growing between them. At least, he thought it was awkward, Regulus looked entirely unaffected. "Soo…" he heard himself uttering before he could stop himself. "What are you going to tell Dumbledore? He could have you in Azkaban within hours you know."

Regulus didn't answer immediately. Sirius was beginning to think he wouldn't answer at all when he heard him clear his throat quietly, "He could, certainly. I expect it isn't what he will want."

Sirius scoffed, "Why not? Do you really expect him to care about what happens to you? Do you have any idea how many of the people he cared about are gone now because of the little band of misfits you joined?"

"Do you?" Regulus countered. "I expect it's difficult to know who Dumbledore really cares about."

"This isn't _funny_ , Regulus. People died and you feel no remorse-"

"How could you possibly know how I feel?"

"Oh, please. You're not going to tell me I've… _neglected_ you all these years?" Sirius sneered, "You can't be surprised I don't expect you to have remorse for what you did as a death eater after what you've done to your own family. Can you imagine how your death must have destroyed our parents? You've seen mother's portrait."

" _Don't_ bring them into this," Regulus warned coldly.

" _I_ believed you died too. I thought you were dead for _fifteen years –_ you let me believe that." Sirius' eyes bore into his until Regulus looked away. "I have every reason not to trust you, yet you act as if the Order – no, you act as if _I_ am the one who can't be trusted. I know you're hiding something – not just your family, something else."

Regulus hesitated, "I've told you, keeping my family safe is my only priority now. Aside from ensuring their existence isn't going to be announced at the next Order meeting – you and I have little that needs to be discussed."

"Do you really think I don't understand wanting to protect someone? My godson is Harry Potter. Not even you would have a bigger target on your back. We should be working together against Voldemort, but all you want to do is run away."

"I… can't be the person you want me to be, Sirius. No more now than when we were younger."

"Forget what you think _I_ want, is this the person _you_ want to be?" Sirius demanded, "A coward who runs away the moment things get difficult?"

"Despite what you think, a coward isn't actually the worst insult you can give someone." Regulus sighed, "I have other people to think about."

"Right, its all about _your_ family." Sirius hesitated slightly before asking unexpectedly, "Do you know why Voldemort tried to kill Harry as a baby?"

Regulus furrowed his brow at the subject change. "I left months before he was born," he answered sounding slightly defensive.

"There was a prophecy about Voldemort," Sirius answered carefully, searching his brother's face for any signs of recollection or deceit, "made months before Harry was born. It was told to Dumbledore and overheard, in part, by a death eater. It's the reason James and Lily went into hiding in the first place."

"What did it say?"

"That the person with the power to defeat the dark lord will be born at the end of July."

Regulus' expression was unreadable, "I expect there was more than one child born at the end of July that year."

"Don't be ignorant, there was more to it than that, not that you need to know. Dumbledore says it's obvious it's about Harry."

"And is it? Obvious?"

"I wouldn't know as I haven't heard it."

"Sirius… you're meant to be his guardian."

"Stop trying to give me parenting advice! I am only telling you because it's obvious you've lost all hope that Voldemort can be defeated."

Regulus shook his head, "It's not going to be as simple as killing him with a deadly curse. I mean, if you get the chance, take it, but he is just going to come back-"

"Were you not listening? Its Harry's destiny to kill him."

"According to a prophecy you haven't heard. Even if it is true, prophecies only make sense after they've come to pass."

"Look, I'm as skeptical as anyone when it comes to the divinations. But whether it is true or not, Voldemort obviously believes in it. He sees Harry as a threat to him, and for that reason, he will never be safe until Voldemort is defeated." He sighed, "I just wish it could have been anyone else," he admitted.

Sirius became so lost in his miserable thoughts he'd nearly forgotten Regulus was there and that he was technically supposed to be 'guarding' him until Dumbledore arrived.

"He made a horcrux," Regulus announced suddenly, interrupting the silence. Sirius didn't bother to hide his bewilderment as he stared at him. Regulus' face fell slightly, "You have no idea that means, do you?"

Sirius furrowed his brow, "Sounds kind of dirty," he shook his head, "And completely random."

"A horcrux contains a fragment of its creator's soul for the purpose of keeping that person alive in the event their body is destroyed," Regulus answered quietly. "By anyone's standards its dark, it requires murder."

He looked slightly ill as if talking about the horcruxes had reminded him of something extremely unpleasant. Dawning horror settled in the pit of Sirius' stomach as he thought of something,

"Is that how _you_ did it? Convinced everyone you died? You made a hor-crux?"

Regulus' eyes widened, "Of course not." Just then someone knocked on the door and pushed it open.

"Regulus," Dumbledore greeted solemnly, offering a nod in Sirius' direction before again addressing the younger Black, "It sounds like you and I should talk."


	12. Regulus' Tale: Part 1

**A/N:** I thought the format of this chapter would be more interesting than another conversation- but it ended up being longer than expected and so will continue into chapter 13... Also, the transition into this chapter isn't very smooth... sorry for that. I will fix when I get a chance. Hopefully it isn't too disconcerting in the meantime.

* * *

Sirius returned to Regulus' bedroom upon receiving Dumbledore's summons. He was alarmed to see the headmaster was there alone.

"Where's Regulus?"

"He's gone to retrieve something for me. You will see him soon," Dumbledore assured him.

"Well, what happened?" Sirius asked impatiently.

"We had a very interesting discussion. During which, and after much persuasion, I convinced him to share some of his memories with me, and some others with you." He indicated an ornate Pensieve that must have been brought in while he was in Buckbeak's room avoiding everyone. "I think you will find them to be most enlightening."

Sirius raised an eyebrow as Dumbledore withdrew a flask containing silvery hair-like wisps that he recognized to be memories. He took the bottle from Dumbledore and tipped its contents into the stone basin. He bent forward only to hesitate.

"You are more alike than you are different," Dumbledore said encouragingly.

Sirius plunged his face into the silvery substance. He felt his feet leave the floor before falling through whirling darkness.

When it stopped there were two near-identical black hair, gray eyed boys sitting before him. The older one's eyes had a glazed look about them while the younger boy was listening intently to the man across the desk from them. _Their father's lessons_ , Sirius recalled with both derision and sadness.

"…Aside from these laws there is perhaps no limit to what a wizard _can_ do, but there are certain magics that test the boundary," Orion said. "Things that, despite one's capability, simply shouldn't be done. Some argue all of the dark arts belong in this category, but that is simply untrue.

"It is the spells designed to violate one's soul – that tamper with the source of life, the essence of self that must be avoided. Attempting to raise the dead or alter one's own mortality – only one who does not understand the true cost of their actions would dare attempt any of these things."

He indicated a hidden compartment in the wall. "Much of what is contained in these books fall into that category. We keep them only as a record of the existence of such magic. Now, any questions before lunch?"

Sirius perked up slightly at the prospect of food, only to close his eyes when Regulus started asking questions.

Regulus was at Hogwarts and looked… tiny. Something about the dark Slytherin common room made him look smaller than he had in their father's office. He was sitting on one of the green leather couches with a dark haired girl Sirius couldn't immediately place. She was looking down at the book in her lap, pretending not to notice Corban Yaxley beside them. The sixth year looked rather ominous, talking almost inaudibly in Regulus' ear. Rather than afraid as Sirius might have expected, Regulus looked defiant.

"Excuse me," a cool female voice interrupted. It was Narcissa, and with Lucius at her side.

"I was just letting our firstie here know what was expected of him," Yaxley smirked.

"He is quite aware of what is expected," Narcissa said. "You would do well to remember he is not his brother."

"Perhaps a detention every Saturday for the rest of term will keep the memory fresh?" Lucius suggested, pushing his hair back from his shoulder to reveal his Prefect badge.

"It's September!" Yaxley complained. "You're only doing this to impress her," he accused, indicating Narcissa.

As Yaxley argued with Malfoy, Narcissa regarded Regulus. He was scowling. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off,

"You're not doing me any favors with that," he said quietly.

"You should not underestimate how much your brother is resented in this house. It could make things very difficult for you if you don't set yourself apart from him."

The scene changed and Regulus was a couple of years older. He looked apprehensive as he entered one of the unused classrooms in the dungeons. Gathered inside were Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, Snape, and Wilkes. Sirius groaned. They were the Slytherin boys from his year, and he hated every single one of them.

Snape sneered, "What's _he_ doing here?"

"I invited him," Wilkes said haughtily. Sirius decided this was Regulus' third year as he and Wilkes would have been on their house's quidditch team together.

Rosier shrugged, "We have an odd number. It makes sense to add someone."

Snape started to protest.

"I say we either add Black, or drop the half-blood," Wilkes announced. "We only have a small window of time and it's wasted every time one of us has to sit out."

Avery and Mulciber exchanged looks.

"Adding Black is fine by me, if he can keep up," Mulciber decided. "We meet when Slytherin Prefects have rounds. It's a privilege they've wisely decided to grant us."

"What exactly are we doing?" Regulus asked, turning to Wilkes. "You only said to show up."

"To learn what we'll need to know," he answered. "Out there," with his hands, he seemingly indicated space.

"Essentially, we practice dueling," Rosier elaborated with an exasperated look at Wilkes.

"You are expected to bring new spells. You will be injured. You will not be taken to the infirmary when that happens," Avery recited. "As such, it would be wise to know the counter-curse to any spell you choose to use, less you can expect to be paid back in kind. If you do not want to be a part of this, now is the time to speak up. Your memories will be wiped, but you will not be injured."

"Much," Mulciber added with a smirk.

Sirius didn't have to look to know Regulus agreed. And thus, his little brother was enrolled in death eater training, he thought sardonically…

Regulus was sitting at his desk in his bedroom at number 12 Grimmauld Place, idly flipping through a quidditch magazine.

He glanced at his watch and exhaled as if bracing himself. Standing, he straightened his already perfect robes, and left the room. Sirius followed him as he started to go downstairs only to abruptly change his mind and approach the bedroom across the hall.

He raised a hand to knock, but then dropped it, and put an ear to the door to listen. Adult-Sirius immediately recognized the sound coming from within his bedroom. His sixteen year old self was pacing – not in his human form. The sound of four paws hitting the floor was distinctly different than a human with two legs.

"Sirius," Regulus called.

The pacing stopped immediately. The Sirius who wasn't sixteen years old could appreciate how much easier wandless transformations had gotten over the last decade and a half.

He realized what memory he was about to relive. His wand had been confiscated on the first day of winter break as punishment for 'befouling' his bedroom walls with pictures of muggle women using permanent sticking charms. 'You like muggles so much, live as one,' his mother had told him.

After a long pause, Sirius poked his head out, " _What_?" he demanded.

"Unless you intend to be late _again_ for dinner, you should come down now."

Sirius made to close the door – he had every intention of being late for dinner. Regulus blocked it with his foot, and shoved half his body through the opening before he could get it shut. Naturally, Sirius tried even harder to close the door then, all the better to smash him.

After a brief struggle, the rest of Regulus' lithe form somehow managed its way into his room. Sirius tossed himself across his bed, and gazed at the newest addition to his room décor – a blonde in what blissfully passed as swimwear for muggle women.

"I'll come down in a few minutes," he said lazily.

Regulus' eyes flitted to the picture and quickly away. He glanced around the rest of the room before his eyes settled on him. He took in his disheveled hair, muggle band t-shirt and ripped jeans with a critical eye. "I do hope you intend to change before going downstairs."

Sirius looked at his shirt as if confused, "This bothers you?"

"You know it's going to irritate mother _."_

Sirius looked at his wrist and though he wasn't wearing a muggle watch, rose to his feet and steered Regulus out of the door with him, "No time to change now or we'll be late."

They walked down the first flight of stairs in silence. They'd just passed a row of dead relatives' portraits when Regulus' irritation subsided enough to ask casually, "So how's life as a muggle?"

Sirius glowered at him, "Just peachy".

They passed another row of portraits in silence.

"I expect mum and dad would give your wand back if you made an effort."

"Effort to what? Be like _you_?" he asked derisively.

Regulus smirked, "Perhaps something less ambitious to start."

"You certainly have the arrogance of a Black," Sirius muttered.

"Something in common then," Regulus answered.

They arrived in the dining room and took their usual seats. Neither of them spoke as they waited for their parents to join them.

When their mother arrived she took one look at Sirius and called for Kreacher to bring something 'more suitable' for him to put on. When he didn't immediately take the proffered robes, Kreacher enlisted the aid of what must have been every house elf they owned to wrestle him into them. As his sixteen year old self was trading vulgarities with both his mother, and the elves, Sirius couldn't help but hope this had been omitted from the memories Regulus supplied to Dumbledore.

His father joined them in time to witness the scene. As if it were nothing out of the ordinary he took his seat at the head of the table without commenting. When Sirius finally got situated into the robes that were too small for him – he was certain they must've belonged to Regulus, he grumpily rejoined them at the table. His food appeared the moment he sat down. It was impossible not to notice his portions were around half the size of Regulus'.

Walburga looked him over critically. Evidently finding nothing further to harass him about, she reminded them, "Narcissa and Lucius' engagement party is tomorrow."

"I'm not going to that," Sirius said immediately.

Regulus gave him a look from across the table. It wouldn't have taken a Legilimens to know what he was thinking.

"You most certainly will be going and you will be on your best behavior." Walburga warned.

Orion cleared his throat, "Sirius, you are sixteen, not a child. It is time to set aside petty differences and form alliances with your peers from the other ancient families."

"I have friends who are muggleborn and half-bloods! I'm not going to pretend to believe in this pureblood elitist nonsense!"

"There is always a middle ground," Orion answered with forced calm. He gave an almost imperceptible glance at Regulus, "I refuse to believe any son of mine is incapable of diplomacy."

Sirius looked between the two of them in disbelief, "Regulus doesn't exactly toe the line of neutrality."

"If you were more like your brother we wouldn't be having this conversation," Walburga said. Gone were the days when they sat quietly and let the grownups talk, Sirius mused. Their parents, particularly their mother, seemed to enjoy pitting the two of them against each other.

"You would prefer I alienate the _majority_ of our peers then? Curse muggleborns for sport?"

"I hex people I don't like," Regulus admitted, "Rarely, is it without good reason."

"You don't like anyone who isn't just like you. Your only friends are the prats mum and dad hand-selected for you when you were a baby!"

"That's ridiculous. What difference does it make when I met them?"

"It matters because everyone around you was raised the same way, thinks the same way, is narrow-minded in the same way!"

"Do you honestly think your friends are better? You attack Snape every chance you get-"

"It's Snape," Sirius answered as if that explained everything.

"And any other Slytherin you catch alone. They don't even have to be in Slytherin, they just have to be in the wrong place at the wrong time for you and _Potter_ to go after them."

Sirius clenched his fists, "There's a difference between a harmless prank and what you Slytherins get up to."

"Not all of your pranks are harmless. Snape swears you tried to kill him the other night."

"He deserved it. Serves him right for always following us around."

" _What?"_ Orion demanded.

Sirius tore his eyes away from Regulus and slowly met his father's gaze.

"Snape exaggerated what happened," he said.

"And what did happen?" his mother asked a bit too eagerly.

It was the ultimate decision: defend his actions and risk inadvertently pleasing his mother or show remorse for what he'd done and risk it getting back to Snape. There had also been Remus to think about.

"I'd rather not talk about it," he answered.

"I did not _ask_ you if you wanted to talk about it, I instructed you to tell me," Walburga snapped.

"Well I'm not feeling very talkative right now," he said, making the mistake of taking his eyes off her. He hadn't expected her to resort to a compulsion charm so quickly.

He clenched his teeth tightly to keep from talking until the effect wore off, "Are you kidding me?" he demanded the moment it passed.

"Regulus," Orion said simply. One word accompanied by a meaningful look was all it took for him to spill his guts.

"There's this boy at school," he began. Sirius stood, to do what, he couldn't recall, maybe to punch his little brother in the face. It didn't matter as Walburga stunned him before he could do anything. "He's not in Slytherin. Naturally, I wouldn't know much about him," he said haughtily. He glanced at Sirius and hesitated. "Snape got this wild theory that he is some sort of half breed. Ever since, he's been obsessed with trying to prove his theory. From my understanding, Sirius told him a way to find proof– and then set up some infantile prank to humiliate him."

" _Is_ there a half-breed running about school?" Orion asked, watching Sirius intently.

"I made it up," he growled when Walburga ended the spell.

"I cannot fathom what goes on in your head," she said. "To invent that half-breeds are running about – contaminating students. Humiliating Slytherins- did it not occur to you how this might affect your brother?"

"No, because my entire existence doesn't revolve around him. But don't worry, Snape's a half-blood. Regulus wouldn't dare be friends with him."

"You humiliated a member of his house, it affects him whether they are friends or not!"

"You said Snape wanted to know more about this half-breed and he's been following you and your friends around," Orion said carefully. "This boy is a friend of yours?"

"I've already told you I made it up."

"What sort of half-breed did you tell him?"

"It's... not even a boy. That's how little Regulus knows about anything outside his group of friends. Snape was obsessed with this girl in Gryffindor. I expect the Slytherins gave him a hard time over it as she's muggleborn." He looked at Regulus, daring him to contradict him. He couldn't have looked less interested. Sirius recalled wondering at the time if he actually was as ignorant about the rest of the school as he pretended. "I was trying to help him. I mean a half-blood Slytherin whose chasing a muggleborn… he used to have my sympathy. I told everyone she's probably got veela-blood-"

"How could a mudblood possibly be part-veela?" Walburga demanded.

"Muggle or witch, they all have the same anatomy," Sirius answered brazenly.

Walburga inhaled sharply.

"We will revisit this at another time," Orion said, swiftly changing the subject. "I want to know if you boys have been practicing your occlumency shields."

"Every night before bed," Regulus confirmed.

"Sirius?"

"N-Yes," he paled. He hadn't. His father would be able to find out what the prank entailed – and about Remus. And that he was an animagus. And lots of other things he'd prefer his father not find out.

"I recall your brother's shields were nearly as strong as yours last time they were compared," his mother taunted.

"Nearly, being the operative word. Mine were still better."

"You're nearly two years older, and with Regulus practicing like he does-"

"If he were half as naturally gifted as you brag he is, he wouldn't have to try so damn hard, would he?" he snapped.

"I will be checking each of your shields after supper," Orion answered calmly.

Sirius sneered, "You insist occlumency is important only because you want an excuse to rummage through our minds."

"What goes through your head isn't nearly as interesting as you think it is," Orion said flatly. "Occlumency is a skill necessary for you to master as the heir of an Ancient House."

"Why is _he_ learning it then?" Sirius asked scathingly. "He only wishes he was the heir."

Regulus scowled, "Anyone would be better than you."

Sirius smirked, "When I'm the head of the family, the Black's reputation is going to turnaround. No more of this pureblood mania."

"The Dark Lord will have taken over by then," Regulus said.

Sirius stared at him. That was something their parents would have said, not him.

"Don't say things like that," Sirius said sharply.

The scene changed abruptly. Sirius suspected it was because Regulus didn't want to recall his own fervor when he announced he wanted to become a death eater…

It was later that night. Regulus entered his bedroom and shut the door, only for it to immediately open again, admitting Sirius.

"What is wrong with you?" he demanded.

"I expect we might get along if we stayed away from each other," Regulus said dryly.

"You were just saying all of that – wanting to join the death eaters, because it's what mum and dad wanted to hear. That wasn't you talking."

"Wasn't me?" Regulus laughed humorlessly. "How would you know? We don't talk at school. This is the first holiday you've been home in _three_ years."

"That isn't true," he said, only to realize that aside from a miserable day here and there, it was the truth. He caught sight of where Regulus had hung newspaper clippings about Voldemort on his wall.

"How can you want to be a murderer?"

"Why are you content to live in secret?"

"I'm not unhappy enough about it to want to become a murderer!"

"Being a death eater does not equate to being a murderer."

"I really think it does," Sirius said solemnly.

"The Dark Lord wants to unite wizarding Britain under pureblood rule and bring wizards out of hiding-!"

"I heard your frenzied little speech the first time around," Sirius said disgustedly. "How do you expect he will accomplish that? Is everyone who isn't a pureblood just going to lie down and agree to do whatever it is the pureblood elitists deem appropriate? Where will that leave the muggleborns, I wonder."

Regulus shrugged unconcernedly, "There's bound to be some casualties. Mud-"

" _Some_ casualties?" Sirius repeated. "Tell me, have you read any articles from "The Prophet" that aren't currently on your wall? You ought to check out the obituaries sometime. Never mind the muggle papers, they're filled with more unexplained deaths every day."

"Muggles aren't innocent, certainly not where wizards are concerned."

"They are _helpless_ where _actual_ wizards are concerned. How can be you be so ignorant?"

The scene changed, omitting the rest of their argument. Sirius had gone downstairs afterwards and shouted at their parents for brainwashing Regulus, among other things. By the end of that night, he had moved out.

Regulus was standing in the doorway of the drawing room, solemnly observing their mother as she burned a hole through what Sirius knew to be his name on the tapestry. When Sirius imagined what this scene must have been like, he always pictured her screaming obscenities at him as she worked. This wordless Walburga was not one he recognized.

"If you keep going with that it's going to bleed into my name," Regulus quietly observed. He approached her carefully as if expecting she would attack.

She lowered her wand slightly. She stared at the blackened spot where Sirius' name had been for another moment before stowing her wand. All of her movements were slow, as if she were in a state of shock. She looked into Regulus' face and it was clear she had been crying. _Crying_. He knew it would natural for a mother to mourn the loss of her son but she had been the main reason he left.

Regulus averted his eyes to the tapestry. Comforting crying women had not been in their father's lessons – least of all when the woman was their mother.

The scene changed and Regulus was with their father and grandfather Arcturus. He recognized they were in his grandfather's study.

"Walburga was rather insistent Sirius should be disowned," his grandfather observed. _That was the woman he remembered_ , Sirius thought wryly.

"Walburga and Sirius have more in common than either of them would ever admit," Orion answered wearily. Sirius scowled.

"You would not disown him on principle? He walked out on our family. He's irreverent of our traditions. He proudly befriends mudbloods…"

"He's sixteen," Orion said. "The door should remain open for him until such a time comes when it must be closed."

Arcturus raised an eyebrow, "You would ask him to come back, Orion?"

"Of course not. I simply think it's all very new, and while not entirely unexpected, we should not be so rash to make lasting decisions."

"He isn't going to come back," Regulus said flatly.

Orion and Arcturus exchanged a look.

"You cannot remain angry over this," Orion warned him.

"You pride yourself on diplomacy, but you won't even attempt to talk to him." He furrowed his brow, "We all said stupid things."

"Sirius is the heir apparent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," Arcturus said with contempt. "He was born into a life of privilege. Rather than recognize his good fortune, he spat on his birthright. He has insulted our family. And for the life of me, I cannot fathom why either of you would hold out hope that he would change his mind. The question should be, why would we want him back?"

Through his father's tirade, Orion was observing Regulus. "It is not your fault he left," he said.

"So what if it is? Arcturus asked balefully. "Can you honestly say you never wished you had been born first?" Regulus looked away. "It is the unspoken dream of every second born in succession that something should befoul their older sibling. It is not without reason a statute exists preventing a murderer from inheriting from his victim."

"It matters not how you get the title-" Orion said.

"By default," he scoffed. "Can Sirius even be disinherited? He is the firstborn – _magic_ recognizes that. As will everyone else."

"You must embrace this, Regulus."

"I'm beginning to understand your hesitance to disinherit Sirius, Orion." Arcturus said critically. "Do you think _he_ would care about whether the legitimacy of his title was questioned? About what others think? I expect he'd enjoy making an example of anyone who dared question it."

"He is also stubborn, unpredictable and tactless," Orion said. "There is no use in comparing the two of them. Regulus, I won't have you return to school acting like this. The last thing you should want is for Sirius to come back. And whether or not that is how you feel, that is what you will portray."

When the scene reformed, Regulus was seated at a round table between fellow Slytherins, Alec Selwyn and Elara Shafiq. Snape was there, sitting apart from them and the other Slytherins. Selwyn was watching him with contempt as he attentively listened to the redhead beside him. Sirius' chest tightened; it was Lily.

On the other side of Snape was Professor Slughorn, which explained why this odd assortment of students had gathered. _Of course Regulus would attend those pathetic Slug Club meetings,_ Sirius thought. He and James had always given Lily a hard time for going to them.

"I was… sorry to hear about your brother, Regulus," Slughorn addressed him sincerely.

Ignoring muffled laughter, particularly from the Gryffindor end of the table, Regulus swirled the contents in his glass, which looked suspiciously like that of an alcoholic variety, nonchalantly, "It was only a matter of time before it happened."

"I expect things will be patched up. The firstborn is a sacred position in ancient families."

"Not ours. My father has had it mind to circumvent Sirius' inheritance for years now."

Sirius didn't have to listen to the rest of their discussion to know what was said nor see his housemates scamper off to find him the moment the meeting was over to tell him about it.

The scene changed.

Regulus was in the Great Hall sitting among the future death eaters of his year.

"I can't believe your brother wasn't expelled," Snape said irritably, sitting down beside him.

"Mulciber used _your_ levicorpus spell on that Macdonald mudblood in front of half the school. If he didn't get in trouble for what he _did,_ I hardly see how Sirius would be expelled for something he _said_."

"That spell was meant to be a laugh – not used like _that_." Snape said defensively. He cast a furtive glance at the Gryffindor table, which did not go unnoticed.

Across the table, Selwyn scrunched his nose, "If you're going to fawn over mudbloods, do it elsewhere. We're trying to eat."

Regulus laughed, "He's just worried _that_ mudblood is going to find out it was _his_ spell that Mulciber used. What did she call it again? _Dark_ and _creepy_?"

Snape glowered at him, "Your brother nearly _killed_ me… or worse."

"We can't attest to that," Selwyn countered. "You've been very tightlipped about what happened… you're even allowing people to believe James Potter saved your life."

"He did _not_ save my life, he was in on it!"

"So what really happened then?" Regulus asked.

"I've told you, I'm sworn to secrecy-"

"Your loyalty to the headmaster is admirable," Selwyn smirked.

"He would have me expelled!"

"You do see the flaw in that logic, don't you?" Regulus asked mildly, "Sirius 'almost killed you' and he got what?"

"A handful of detentions," Selwyn supplied.

"Telling us what he did can't possibly garner a worst punishment than what he got for doing it."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what he did," Snape insisted. Regulus and Selwyn exchanged looks. "You must know some way to get back at him – did you think about what I said about the moon cycle?" he muttered.

Selwyn sniggered, "What, like he's a woman?"

"Are you incapable of minding your own business?" snapped Snape.

"Listen," Regulus said, heading off their exchange of insults. "I just got the best Christmas present of my life, thanks to Sirius leaving. I don't know what happened when he supposedly almost killed you – but I do know it nearly ended his friendship with the so-called marauders. As much as I hate Potter, without him, Sirius is on his knees begging my parents to take him back. I don't care how you retaliate. If you do anything that turns his friends against him and he comes back home – you can trust I won't be the only person you'll have to answer to."

As if on cue, Carrow and Rowle turned their attention to Snape, each giving him a menacing look. Snape rolled his eyes and slinked to the end of the table where his year-mates were seated.

Regulus was standing outside, observing a crowd of people clad in their best dress robes. It was warm despite the evening hour. The lawn was lit with floating candles reminiscent of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Behind him stood a large house Sirius didn't recognize, though it was evident its owner was quite wealthy.

Regulus looked as if he'd rather be any place else. The blood status of those in attendance varied enough that Sirius was surprised he was there at all. Given the number of people casting surreptitious looks in his direction, it was obvious others had the same thought. The only members of Ancient houses he saw were around their parents' age. Naturally, it was where several of them were congregated that Sirius easily spotted his mother.

As if unable to take it any longer, Regulus turned and went inside the house. There he saw Barty Crouch Jr. standing with his mother as she talked with the wives of some other ministry officials. The younger male acknowledged him though Regulus kept walking. The hallway split, leaving the option of turning right into a brightly lit room where guests were gathered or left into a less welcoming corridor. He chose left.

The portraits framed along the wall watched him go by with a mixture of curiosity and distrust. A few of them asked him questions that he ignored.

At the end of the hall, stood a grand mahogany door. He pushed it open and found himself in a considerable library. He started to turn around, presumably to go back to where he was meant to be, but just as he did music began to play from the reception hall. He entered the library instead. He was scanning the titles on the nearest shelf, when a girl around his age entered.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded with a bit too much authority for her age. Sirius' mouth fell open slightly as he recognized her as Maliah Bones. Head held high, piercing gaze –after seeing her again, her resemblance to Regulus' daughter was too great to be coincidental.

Regulus wasn't bothered enough to look at her. "The Fawleys are friendly with the Blacks," he said apathetically. "Naturally, we were invited to their daughter's wedding."

"That explains why you came to my brother's wedding, not why you're _here_ , in our library."

Regulus shrugged, "The door was open."

"You couldn't have known that until you were wandering around the house."

"It's fortunate it was me and not one of those ministry officials out there then. Do you realize how many of these books would be confiscated if they were to raid here?" He looked at her then and maybe it was the whole-Regulus-has-a-daughter-who-looks-just-like-her thing, but Sirius thought his eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary. "Not that they would. Your family is better known for opposing dark arts than using them."

"Ignorance is rarely the weapon of choice against dark magic."

Just then, Edgar Bones came barreling through the door. He looked distrustfully at Regulus, whose demeanor instantly appeared more innocent, before his eyes settled on Maliah.

"What is going on in here?" he demanded, looking his sister over carefully. "Is he a friend of yours?"

Maliah regarded him, "We're in the same house," she said vaguely. "Regulus Black."

Typically the name Black evoked a reaction, though it appeared Edgar already knew what family he belonged to. His expression didn't change as they exchanged introductions.

"I wanted to borrow a book," Regulus said simply.

"But we don't have it," Maliah finished.

"I may have gotten the title wrong," Regulus invented, turning back to the shelf contemplatively.

"I would expect your family to have any kind of book you would want already," Edgar said.

Regulus hesitated, "Regretfully, the Patronus isn't a charm my family puts much interest in." Sirius scoffed _. He chose the most obvious lie._

Edgar quirked an eyebrow, "It is said only those with a pure heart can successfully cast a Patronus charm."

"When the dark wizard Raczidian attempted it, maggots shot out of his wand and quickly devoured him because, though competent he was unworthy," Regulus recalled.

Edgar nodded, "That doesn't worry you?"

"Well, I'm fifteen. I can't have done much wrong."

Maliah coughed.

"I'm also pretty sure that's a myth. If he were truly competent, he surely could have banished the maggots before they engulfed him."

Edgar appraised him, "What is it about the Patronus charm that interests you?"

"Aside from the obvious benefit of defense, I've heard that it can be used as a means to communicate, but I haven't found anything in my reading to indicate as much."

"That is… not something typically done," Edgar answered carefully, "And I would guess impossible for a fifteen year old. Can you produce a Patronus now?"

Regulus' eyes flitted to Maliah, perhaps regretting his feigned interest in a charm he couldn't perform, "I've only just started researching it."

Edgar seemed to ponder something, "Take out your wand," he instructed. Being that it had never left his hand, Regulus simply removed it from his pocket. "Now close your eyes."

Regulus blinked, " _What?"_

Edgar held up his hands to show him they were empty, "Close your eyes, and draw forth the happiest memory you have."

Regulus hesitated before doing as he was told.

"Can you vividly picture it – imagine yourself there?"

"I think so."

"What is it?"

Regulus' mouth twitched, "I'd rather not say."

"Are you doing anything malicious?"

He opened his eyes.

"You need to choose something _good_."

"Like what?"

"Helping someone you don't like master a skill?" Maliah suggested shrewdly.

Edgar tilted his head, "That might be a bit of a stretch, though helping others _can_ evoke good feelings about oneself."

He extracted his wand. Sirius heard Regulus exhale slowly as he aimed it in his general direction. A moment later a book was zooming off a distant shelf and towards him.

"Hogwarts didn't teach the Patronus Charm when I was there. I taught myself over the summer before my sixth year with the help of this," he held up the book.

Regulus studied the cover, "I'll be sure to look for a copy in Diagon Alley."

He shrugged, "You could just borrow it and give it back to Maliah at school."

Sirius suspected Regulus wanted to refuse even as he took the book and thanked him rather awkwardly. He was no doubt trying to figure out how best to stash it without their notice to avoid their mother knowing he had _borrowed_ something. Despite having been there on the pretense to do so, such behavior did not befit the heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

Edgar turned to Maliah, "Shall I practice my best man speech one last time before getting on with it?"

"Please, don't," she complained. "It's forever etched in my memory as it is…"

Regulus was in potions class, sharing a work space with Maliah Bones. Sirius thought perhaps they had been better friends than they let on, but then realized everyone was partnered alphabetically.

Maliah glanced at Regulus from the corner of her eye. "How's the Patronus coming?" she asked the moment he began adding powdered porcupine quills to his cauldron.

"Well enough," he answered as his potion turned turquoise. He allowed it to simmer.

She added some powder to her own cauldron, seemingly on the same step he was. She waited until he reached for the powdered unicorn horn, "What form does it take?" she asked as he was adding it.

"Why would you possibly need to know that?" he drawled.

She remained quiet until he began adding another ingredient, "Is it a snake?"

He gave her an impassive look. She appeared quite innocent as she stirred her potion,

"Something ironic then," she said contemplatively. Waiting until he was adding more powdered porcupine quills, she suggested, "A lion? Like Gryffindor." His hand slipped just enough Sirius could tell he added more than he intended. She watched his potion turn pale gray and hid a smile as she added porcupine quills to her potion, turning it white just as the board said it should.

"Is yours a badger?" He asked, "Because that wouldn't be ironic at all."

"No, mine isn't a badger," she said smugly as she adjusted the heat of her cauldron. "You did manage to produce one, right?" He didn't answer. "What am I saying? Of course you did. You're _Regulus Black_. You probably didn't even need a book to tell you how to do it. You're just so… _exceptional_ that way."

Regulus smirked, "I can't change who I am," he said arrogantly.

"You do get that I'm mocking you, right?"

"I get that you're trying to."

Maliah scowled. They each added their last ingredient. Maliah's potion emitted a light silver vapor while Regulus' released gray steam.

"Not your best work," she observed.

"I expect you'll come to regret distracting me. Slughorn swears these are our seats until we graduate."

"Whose fault is that?"

"I suppose you could blame Carrow for exploding Vane's cauldron of poison in third year. Or you could blame the mudblood for being incapable of brewing a simple shrinking solution without turning it to poison." He glanced at the Gryffindor in question and openly laughed at the green flames emitting from his cauldron.

"Or we could blame the person who suggested to Carrow that it would be a great trick to explode a cauldron of _poison_ in a classroom."

Regulus smirked, "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"You're never more than one step removed from any incident in our house. It's your minions who bear the detentions for your ideas, because they're dumb enough to listen to you."

"Why does that bother you?" Regulus asked, not bothering to deny it.

"It's maddening our housemates listen to you just because you're a Black."

Regulus stared at her, "You act as if you were born some pitiful mudblood without influence. People fear my family… they actually like yours."

By then Slughorn had arrived. He congratulated Maliah on a perfect Draught of Peace and mimicked her sentiment that it had not been Regulus' best work.

The scene changed. Regulus was in a corner of the Slytherin common room studying Arithmancy with Michael Vaisey. That gave Sirius pause as Vaisey was a half-blood. He then remembered Vaisey was on the quidditch team, which must have somehow made him better in Regulus' eyes compared to other half-bloods.

Selwyn approached them, "We're going to find some mudbloods to test out new spells," he told Regulus, indicating Amycus Carrow and Thorfinn Rowle. "Want to come?"

"We have OWLs coming up."

"No reason to waste time studying when _we_ already know it," he lowered his voice slightly. "Carrow and Rowle don't have a shot at learning it."

Vaisey hid a smile.

"I'd rather do something useful," Regulus said.

Selwyn's eyes shifted to Vaisey, "Well, that would explain the charity work."

Vaisey gave a longsuffering sigh as he wordlessly packed his things away and left. Regulus appeared neither amused nor upset by their exchange.

"What did you have in mind?" Selwyn asked, sitting down where Vaisey had been.

"I've been thinking… we're well past the age when allowing our fathers to sift through our memories isn't awkward." Selwyn smiled knowingly. "If we learned legilimency ourselves, it would alleviate the need for them to test our shields."

When the scene reformed, Regulus was pulling open the door to a compartment of the Hogwarts Express which contained most of the Slytherin girls in his year.

"Is it time for rounds already?" the female prefect, Elara Shafiq, asked.

"Ten minutes," Regulus said, obviously amused by something going on elsewhere as he took the vacant seat beside Maliah Bones.

"The others will be hexing muggleborns in that time," said a blonde girl with disdain. Sirius wished he could recall her name simply because of her word choice.

Elara's eyes were boring into Regulus.

"Are we still pretending there isn't anything going on between you two?" she asked, indicating him and Maliah.

"What would be going on?" Maliah asked neutrally, looking out the window.

"Oh, please. All of your hushed conversations in Potions. Regulus refraining from cursing every mudblood that passes. Maliah's recent pronouncement that the Bones' family has more influence outside of Hogwarts than the majority of ancient families… you two are rubbing off on each other too much for there not to be anything going on."

Regulus smirked, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I've known you since you were in nappies," Elara hissed, causing the blonde girl in the carriage to laugh. "Your innocent act doesn't work on me."

Ignoring her, Regulus turned to Maliah, "Plans this summer?" He asked conversationally.

"I expect we'll spend most of the break in France," she answered. "We have a place there."

"Oh? Which wizarding community is it in?"

Maliah frowned slightly which caused Elara to laugh,

"That reminds me, Regulus. You'll be sixteen this summer. I expect you have… _plans_?"

"No plans, but feel free to send a gift," he smirked. Elara looked as if she wanted to say something – announce Regulus' childhood dream of becoming a death eater perhaps. He stood and pulled open the door of the compartment before she could. "We'd better get going before we're late."

When the scene reformed, Regulus was with their parents in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place. Kreacher entered the room and announced the arrival of Bellatrix.

After the initial greetings, their most hated cousin turned excitedly to Regulus, "For your birthday I have arranged the privilege for you to meet with the Dark Lord-"

"He is turning _sixteen_ ," Orion said immediately. "Another year before he is an adult."

"There is precedent," Bellatrix told him. "Regulus has housemates who have already joined."

"Seventh years," Regulus confirmed pensively. "Their fathers brought them in."

"As I will you," Bellatrix beamed. "There would be no greater honor for our family."

Regulus hesitated. He _hesitated_? Could he have been talked out of it? Sirius felt a wave of nausea that he hadn't been there to stop him.

"What is there to think about?" Walburga asked. "You have been talking about this for three years. The Dark Lord must recognize how valuable you would be to his cause if he's agreed to meet you."

"What does the Dark Lord want with a sixteen year old?" Orion asked carefully. "With the trace still on him, he would be a liability."

"You would have him _turn down_ the Dark Lord's invitation?" Bellatrix demanded angrily. "As you have done? You are lucky he allows you to live, you have insulted him so!"

"Is that _why_ he wants Regulus? A child-"

"I am not a child," Regulus said, instantly angry.

"You have not finished your education," Orion said sternly. "You still have the trace. There is nothing you can do right now that cannot be done by someone already in his service."

"If you think he is not ready, where will it be that he learns what he needs to know? At Hogwarts?" Bellatrix asked derisively. "He would learn far more within the ranks of the death eaters."

"He can join when he is seventeen, while he is underage, it is _my_ choice."

The scene changed to Sirius' disappointment. He had rather enjoyed watching their father telling Bellatrix off. It had been a rare moment of pride he felt in a member of his family.

Regulus was lying in his bed in his dormitory at Hogwarts. An invisible force yanked open the emerald curtains around him and he was hit with a nonverbal silencing spell. Another wand levitated him from his bed. He futilely attempted to fight off the invisible intruders as they guided him into the common room, sniggering.

Avery and Mulciber were waiting for them there. As Regulus was dropped in a heap on the ground, Rosier and Wilkes suddenly appeared on either side of him.

"Here," Wilkes said, handing him a bottle of firewhiskey. "I won't lie, it's going to hurt."

Regulus gave him a bemused look before seemingly realizing what he meant. Rosier tossed him a set of robes to put on.

"End the silencing spell, you would?" Mulciber said gruffly.

Wilkes obliged.

"What's going on?" Regulus asked hoarsely.

"The Dark Lord has requested to meet you," Avery announced rather ominously.

Regulus half-looked as if he would object before perhaps realizing he really didn't have a choice at that point.

Rosier and Mulciber disillusioned each of them and hurried them along. They made their way through the castle, careful to avoid Filch and his cat. Sirius followed their voices, quietly hoping they would get caught and be sent back to their dormitories. He wouldn't have guessed he could have hated any one of his former classmates more than he already did, until he watched them half-drag his brother to meet Voldemort.

* * *

TBC...


	13. Regulus' Tale: Part 2

A/N- if anyone is interested, I'll be posting "Blood of thy Enemy: Deleted Scenes" which will include some of what I wrote for chapters 12/13 but took out related to length and it being less relevant to the story, though it's still compliant.

Thank you to everyone who reviews! It is always more motivating to update when people seem interested in what happens next :)

* * *

Sirius didn't know what he expected to see now that Regulus was a death eater. Walking casually with Lucius Malfoy through muggle London in the middle of the day, certainly was not it. It was extremely hot outside, no doubt summer.

"Narcissa is worried you've been allowed to join too young," Lucius said.

"She worries too much," Regulus answered, not quite hiding a scowl.

"She is quite fond of you. It is for that reason I've brought you with me today. I know Bellatrix wants to train you herself, but her ways are… her own," he finished vaguely.

"It's nothing I can't handle."

Lucius nodded approvingly, "I don't doubt it."

They walked in silence for a moment.

"Occlumency is a skill you shall find useful," Lucius said. "Have you practiced it before?"

"A little," Regulus said oddly, as Sirius knew that to be an understatement. "To conceal-?"

"Never hide _anything_ from the Dark Lord," he warned emphatically. "You would not manage it. In learning occlumency, you are forced to compartmentalize your life and emotions. Mastering this allows you to suppress certain feelings when they would betray your purpose. It is helpful both for when you're with family and while fulfilling _other_ duties. Naturally, you would want to behave quite differently in each of those situations."

"What will we be doing at the Ministry?" Regulus asked.

"There is a proposed decree involving mudblood rights… naturally, we are going to ensure it is blocked."

"I've been with my father for similar things before," Regulus said knowingly. "Essentially he just tells whomever what he wants done, and slips them a bit of gold. It gets remarkably good results."

Lucius smiled fondly, "That brings back memories with my own father. We'll be doing something even more effective today. Tell me, have you used an unforgivable before?"

Regulus looked slightly abashed, "I had the trace until…recently." He rubbed his left forearm subconsciously and then realizing what he was doing, immediately stopped. "The Ministry can't track underage magic at Hogwarts, but there have been incidences where Dumbledore's shown up too quickly not to have some other means of monitoring us."

"Of course the old fool would," Lucius agreed with disdain. "Though I expect the protections at your _house_ would have blocked the trace."

"There isn't anyone at my house I'd want to curse. Not since Sirius left anyway."

Lucius chuckled, "Well today, I'll have you practice the Imperius Curse." Sirius tried to ignore how Regulus' face lit up at the prospect of what they would be doing. "I trust you would have studied the theory behind the spell?" Regulus nodded. "Excellent. Before we arrive, I shall have you disillusion yourself. I will remain with you to ensure you are not discovered as well as assist, should you need any help."

The scene changed before Regulus could implicate himself further.

When it reformed, two masked death eaters were walking swiftly down the stairs of someone's house. Regulus was easily identified by his slender build compared to his counterpart.

"We've got it," Regulus said to a third death eater who was waiting below. As Sirius followed Regulus, he saw that the death eater that remained downstairs had a hostage. The middle-aged man was on his knees and had been disarmed. Sirius was glad he didn't recognize him, and even more so the death eater guarding him had seemingly refrained from torturing him.

Regulus barely slowed down as he passed the waiting death eater and hostage, clearly anticipating they were leaving. The death eater following him stopped to better observe them.

" _Crucio_ ," he cast gruffly. The hostage fell on his back screaming, drawing Regulus' attention, and likely anyone else's in the nearby vicinity. Regulus watched for a moment, shifting his feet. He checked out the window as the spell ended.

"It looks clear," he said, obviously ready to leave.

"We work in the same department at the Ministry, him and me," the gruff-voiced death eater who had cast the spell explained.

The third death eater chuckled, and Sirius immediately recognized it was Lucius Malfoy. "Should add a bit of mystery to the office," he said wryly.

"What do you think newbie? Has he had enough?" the unknown death eater asked.

Regulus said nothing.

"Have you used the Cruciatus before?" he prodded.

"Come," Lucius beckoned before he could answer. It was obvious Lucius knew it was Regulus. He couldn't imagine him laying a hand on the shoulder of just anyone and spoon-feeding instructions to ensure they didn't mess up.

The memory changed as Regulus raised his wand– again, before he implicated himself further.

Regulus stood with Rodolphus Lestrange in front of what appeared to be an ordinary house on a muggle street.

"This is your target," Rodolphus said concisely. "Feindfyre can be very challenging to control. But as you're a Black, I don't expect you'll be too fussed if you take out a few dozen extra muggles in the neighborhood."

Regulus' eyes were fixated on a child's bicycle in the yard a few doors down.

"And if I do want to control it?" he asked mildly.

"Place shield charms along the perimeter, don't overestimate how much control you have..."

The scene changed, and Sirius was observing a battlefield. Regulus was dueling with the Auror Dawlish. From the illumination of their spells, Sirius recognized Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour behind him and knew they were in Diagon Alley.

The scene changed and Regulus was walking towards Lestrange Manor with Bellatrix. He groaned as he pulled off his mask, revealing a gash above his right eyebrow. Blood appeared to be exuding from it in record quantities, into his eye.

"I don't know why you bother with that mask," Bellatrix chastised. "It impairs your ability to see and now it's marred your good looks. No doubt that's going to scar."

"Thanks for the sympathy," Regulus scowled, awkwardly aiming his wand at his head to stem the bleeding.

"Why do you insist on wearing it?" She demanded. "I never wear mine."

"I'd rather not spend my life in Azkaban if things don't go as planned," he answered recklessly.

"Meaning what?" She grabbed his shoulder roughly, stopping him, "Would you deny our master?"

"I was referring to me, if I mess up."

"And if you do? Would you deny our master to avoid punishment?"

Regulus blinked, "Of course not," he answered evenly. "But you must have noticed Dumbledore was there tonight. Imagine how problematic he could make things for me when I still have a _year_ left at school."

"You could just _leave_ school – there is nothing left that place can teach you."

"It would only draw attention to myself."

"The Dark Lord would admire your dedication-"

"I expect he has a reason for me to remain in school, less _he_ would have told me to leave," Regulus countered.

The scene shifted and Regulus was inside Lestrange Manor. A bandage had been hastily put over the cut above his eye, and it looked as if it hadn't entirely stopped bleeding yet.

"I expect you have found your summer to be educational?" Voldemort asked in his high, clear voice that made the hair on Sirius' neck stand up.

"Yes, my lord."

"The start of a new term is fast approaching. You will not be able to serve me as the others do."

"I have the ability to come and go from school undetected," Regulus boasted.

"You shall not miss class," Voldemort instructed. "That would only raise suspicion about your whereabouts. From my understanding you are a Prefect."

Sirius' scowl deepened at the reminder.

"Yes, my lord," he grinned slightly. "When it is convenient."

Voldemort's mouth twisted in a way he might have been smiling, "Ah, yes. I was Head Boy in my time at Hogwarts," he said fondly.

Regulus looked at him curiously and red eyes fastened upon silver ones with such intensity, Sirius was amazed Regulus didn't flinch. He looked calmly back until, after a moment or two, Voldemort ended the intrusion. They both acted as if it was common practice.

"You will be involved just enough throughout the year to ensure the training you received over the summer does not go to waste. As for while you are at school, I want you to expand upon the little dueling club you have been a part of for the better part of four years." Regulus furrowed his brow. "Replace those who have graduated," Voldemort said knowingly, "Invite the entirety of NEWT level Slytherins. Bring in students from other houses who show promise." Regulus shifted uncomfortably. "People will be drawn to you, Regulus, if you allow them. Use that. Teach them, but more importantly, _learn_ about them – their strengths, their weaknesses. Whether it is their goal to join us or become our opposition, it will be useful to know about them…"

When the scene reformed, Regulus was in an ornate room of green and silver that seemed vaguely familiar to Sirius, perhaps somewhere his mother had dragged him to when he was younger. He was disgusted to see Regulus was again with his former Slytherin classmates. Snape was even there, his nose buried in a book as if the conversations surrounding him couldn't interest him in the least.

Regulus looked to be deep in thought himself. "What do you think the Dark Lord meant when he was talking about his path to immortality?" he asked, just loud enough for Wilkes and Rosier to hear.

"His path to… become more powerful than everyone else," Wilkes shrugged unconcernedly.

"Maybe he's part phoenix," Rosier suggested mockingly. "He'll die and regenerate from his own ashes."

Regulus scowled.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to school so you can learn how to fend off such dark wizards?" Rosier asked blandly.

"Or do something useful with your time – like hold quidditch tryouts," Wilkes said. "We didn't leave you and Vaisey the team to discredit our legacy."

"Your so-called legacy consists of half the team being disqualified from playing on any given day."

"Not our fault," Wilkes complained, "A mudblood could scrape their finger on the other side of the castle, and we were somehow responsible."

"Weren't you though?" Regulus asked. "I seem to remember a lot of switching spells."

"Has it escaped your notice that we don't go to Hogwarts anymore?" Avery asked of Wilkes from across the room. "Why are you talking about quidditch?"

"Because… the meeting ended. We weren't given an assignment… and I'm bored?"

Avery exchanged a look with Mulciber, "That can be easily fixed."

Mulciber smirked, "I think I'd fancy a visit into muggle London. Anyone else?" Naturally, no one in that group would turn down the opportunity to terrorize helpless muggles, and they all stood to leave.

"Curse some muggles for me," Regulus told them rather glumly as he made his way towards the fireplace, that Sirius decided belonged to the Rosier's, presumably on his way back to school.

When the scene changed, what must have been every sixth and seventh year Slytherin, half of their Ravenclaw counterparts and a handful of Hufflepuffs were gathered in an expanded classroom in the dungeons. Everyone was paired off with dueling partners with the exception of Regulus, who was walking among them, observing.

A sixth year Ravenclaw who was clearly struggling against Barty Crouch Jr., caught his attention. He stopped to watch them for a moment before intervening.

"He knows what is coming every time," he said quietly, and to Sirius' amazement, without derision. "How are you with nonverbal spells?"

The boy winced. Regulus had just begun to give him tips for mastering the skill when a group of Gryffindors led by Dirk Cresswell burst through the door. Cresswell zeroed in on Regulus,

"We heard you're down here practicing the Cruciatus Curse on first years."

Sirius had been proud there weren't any Gryffindors in attendance until that moment. It would have been obvious there weren't any first years involved, if he had given even the briefest glimpse inside the room before bursting in.

"This is a teacher sponsored dueling club," Regulus answered dismissively. "If you have issue with it, take it up with either Slughorn or Flitwick, both are sponsors."

"You can't expect us to believe they are sponsoring a _death eater_ to train potential recruits for you-know-who," Vane sneered.

"I'm flattered you think so highly of my abilities," Regulus said amusedly, causing some of the throng to laugh, "But I can't imagine the Dark Lord would be so easily impressed as to allow a Hogwarts student within his ranks."

"You won't deny you're preparing for your future career though, will you?" Cresswell prodded.

"Yeah, Black's always fancied himself a teacher," Selwyn sniggered.

"If only it paid better," Regulus said regretfully.

"The irony is, he's actually quite good at it," Elara muttered to Maliah, who had stopped, along with everyone else, to watch the exchange.

"Right well… technically, you're allowed to join us," Regulus told the Gryffindors and to the obvious horror of nearly all of the Slytherins. "Being that it is a teacher-sponsored group."

"As if any us would join death eater training camp," Vane said clearly affronted.

"Perhaps if you looked around, you wouldn't be so convinced there is an ulterior purpose of this group," a new voice said. Sirius scowled as he identified it as belonging to Barty Crouch Jr., who was moving through the crowd towards them. "As my father is the head of the DMLE, and ultimately leads the defense against You-Know-Who, I must ask you to rethink your rhetoric."

Regulus exchanged and almost imperceptible smirk with Rabastan Lestrange, who had evidently befriended Crouch by then. Several Ravenclaws shared similar sentiments to Crouch.

"Why aren't Flitwick and Slughorn here if they're sponsors?" Vane demanded relentlessly.

"I am a Prefect," Regulus shrugged as if it were obvious, and eliciting a look of disdain from each of the Gryffindors.

"We've been gathering for six months, even if you've only just learned of it," Selwyn said pointedly. The Gryffindors exchanged uncomfortable looks.

Regulus smirked, "And now that you see your chivalrous heroics aren't needed, I must ask that you leave so we can continue our training – that is, unless you wish to join us?" The Gryffindors began backing out of the room, trying their best not to look embarrassed. "There will be a competition at the end of the year, if you change your mind," Regulus called after them loftily.

When the scene changed, Regulus was sitting in the Slytherin common room with Maliah. She was nestled under his arm with her head resting against his shoulder. The few people left in the common room didn't act as if it was anything out of the ordinary, Sirius observed.

Admittedly, they looked rather striking together, both in dress robes. To Sirius' amusement, their color choices were like a more elegant version of Hufflepuff's with Regulus' solid black and Maliah's champagne-like color. He was sure someone would have commented on it – or at least thought it, in the likely event they were too afraid of Regulus to say as much.

"So, that was our last Slughorn Party," Maliah said, idly tracing her finger across the intricate pattern on his sleeve.

"He hinted we'll be receiving Christmas invitations in the future," Regulus said, feigning excitement at the prospect.

"Only if our presence could benefit him, of course."

Regulus flashed a brilliant smile that easily conveyed certainty they would be getting invitations.

She didn't return it, "It's going to be weird when we don't see each other every day."

"Yeah," he agreed rather lamely.

She smiled then, "Always the charmer."

Regulus exhaled slowly, "I've been thinking about that… not seeing you. I don't know what I'll be doing after tomorrow and owls are slow," he said quickly, as if almost nervous. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a necklace that Sirius recognized was a Black family heirloom. As if that wasn't significant, he turned it over to the back. "I've linked this to my watch." He pulled out the handsome watch he must've gotten when he turned seventeen. "I don't expect we can have lengthy conversations or anything but…," he showed her how to manipulate its fastenings to create a message. "It's pretty instant," he grinned at her. Sirius expected she was more surprised by the message he had written than the gift itself. The scene changed.

"You had him!" Bellatrix shrieked at Regulus. "You had a clear shot, and you wasted it on that weak curse!"

" _Weak_ curse?" Regulus asked, indignant. "The man lost his leg! It's a cursed wound – it isn't going to grow back."

"You should have killed him."

"He could see who I was-"

"And because you allowed him to live, you have no one to blame but yourself when he tells everyone you are a death eater!" Regulus grimaced. "I don't know why you've hidden it for this long."

"For the same reason I didn't use an unforgivable in front of an auror. I'm more useful outside of a prison cell."

"No, it is because you are weak! You choose to maim rather than kill. It sickens me."

With a flick of her wand, she transfigured a pillow into an enormous cat. It pounced from the sofa to Regulus' chest and clawed at his face. He threw it off of him and into the wall, berating Bellatrix.

"Use your anger!" She shrieked at him. "Kill it!"

Regulus immobilized the cat and turned on her. His retort died on his lips, seeing they were no longer alone. Voldemort had been watching them from the doorway.

"A teaching lesson," he observed, his cold voice permeating the room. "Pretend I'm not here."

"Think of what makes you angry," Bellatrix told him with a renewed sense of urgency.

"I can't think of anything if you don't shut up," he muttered.

Bellatrix looked from him to Voldemort, clearly affronted, the latter merely chuckled.

Regulus focused on the cat and his eyes narrowed. Slowly his face twisted in rage- far more than any eighteen year old should have, " _Avada Kedavra,"_ he cast.

Green light exuded from his wand and with a soft thud, the cat hit the floor. As Regulus' face cleared of anger, his expression immediately became blank.

Voldemort clapped slowly as he approached him. "Do you see that?" he asked, obviously pleased. "With a flick of a wand look what you accomplished. _That_ is power. My _most_ loyal followers kill for me without hesitating." He glanced at Bellatrix and she puffed out her chest proudly. Regulus looked at him – it would have been too obvious he was avoiding eye contact if he hadn't. Voldemort stared into his eyes, clearly using legilimency. After a moment, he ended the intrusion. "I see what you are capable of," he hissed. "You need only to stop fighting it."

When the scene reformed Sirius found himself surrounded in a sea of black cloaks and death eater masks. If not for knowing he was directly beside him, it would have been impossible to pick out Regulus among the crowd. There were some, those whose affiliations were already widely known, who hadn't bothered to conceal their features. He recognized Dolohov as well as the Nott and Rosier patriarchs standing stiffly at the front of the room.

There was a death eater at Voldemort's feet being properly humiliated for screwing up some task or other.

"I shall allow our newest member to deliver further punishment." He gestured to someone and for a moment Sirius thought it was Regulus until the person beside him eagerly stepped forward.

Their newest member showed none of Regulus' hesitance the first time he'd used the Cruciatus spell, instead, dishing it out with relish. Sirius found it revolting to witness, though no one else seemed keen to look away.

Voldemort praised him… for nearly killing the man, before dismissing several among the group. The man laid at the front of the room unmoving. Some of the leaving death eaters made a point of stepping on him as they went by.

Regulus stayed back as the 'newest member' returned to his side.

"Did you see that?" he asked. With the rare sound of emotion in his voice, it took a moment for Sirius to place, but no doubt it was Alec Selwyn.

"Enjoy yourself?" Regulus asked mildly.

"That was incredible," he said more calmly. "Look at him, he's still drooling."

"I have a special task that requires the use of a house elf," Voldemort called to the room at large. "Who will have the honor of allowing their elf to serve me?"

Sirius liked to think it was to avoid responding to Selwyn's sadistic excitement that Regulus promptly volunteered.

Regulus was pacing the length of his bedroom at Grimmauld Place when Kreacher apparated before him, squawking. He flailed around in the floor, gasping for air, grabbing at his throat and chest, all while looking around as if surprised he was alive. Sirius had never seen anyone so distraught.

Regulus crouched down beside him. He attempted to pat him on the back. Kreacher jerked away from his touch. Seemingly having recognized Regulus only then, he covered his face in his hands and began to weep.

"Here sit up," Regulus told him calmly, despite looking rather alarmed himself. Kreacher did so, having no other choice. He put his head between his knees and began to rock himself back and forth. His breathing came in sobs. "Take deep breaths," Regulus reminded him. He continued to speak soothingly to him and gradually his breathing became more rhythmic.

"When you feel up to it, tell me what happened," Regulus said gently. It was several minutes before Kreacher started to talk. Sirius wouldn't have guessed Regulus could be so patient.

"The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave beside the sea," he shivered. "Beyond the cave there was a cavern and in the cavern was a great black lake. There was a b-boat that took the Dark Lord and Kreacher to an island at the center of the lake.

"On the island there was a basin full of p-potion. The D-dark Lord made Kreacher drink it. Kreacher drank and as he drank he saw terrible things… his worst memories," he shuddered. "Kreacher's insides burned… Kreacher cried for M-master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed." Regulus' eyes darkened.

"He made Kreacher drink all of the potion. He dropped a locket into the empty basin and then refilled it with more potion. And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island.

"Kreacher needed water. He crawled to the island's edge and drank from the black lake… and hands, _dead_ hands came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface.

"Kreacher was drowning, but Master Regulus' orders were for him to come home."

The scene changed and Regulus was sitting in their father's office; Orion was watching him from across his desk, his hands folded on the desk.

There was an urgency in Regulus that Sirius had only seen once before.

"I volunteered Kreacher to the Dark Lord for a task. I told him to do whatever the Dark Lord asked and then come home."

"And how did Kreacher perform?"

"He did everything he was supposed to do."

"Then I must ask, what is it that's worrying you, my son?"

"It was the Dark Lord's intent to leave Kreacher to die."

Orion silently observed him, "Naturally, the order given by Kreacher's master would have taken precedence," he said, easily comprehending the problem. Regulus nodded. "The logical thing would be to kill Kreacher."

"I _volunteered_ him," Regulus said angrily. "I told him it would be an _honor_ to serve the Dark Lord." Orion visibly paled, though otherwise didn't react to Regulus' contempt.

"What do you intend for me to do with this information?" he asked carefully.

"I've told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. I just need your word you won't send him out and that you'll ensure mother doesn't either."

Orion didn't answer immediately. Sirius expected he would insist they kill their youngest elf. What was the life of one house elf, if it meant staying in Voldemort's good graces, after all?

"Very well," he agreed eventually. Regulus visibly relaxed. "I was just thinking earlier, I can't remember when the defenses on Grimmauld Place were last upgraded."

When the scene changed, Regulus was with Maliah in a residence less extravagant than Sirius would have imagined either of them living. And unless he was mistaken, they were carving turnips. A distinctly muggle activity done at Halloween that he had only learned about from James – and then Lily who insisted on carving pumpkins instead.

As expected, Regulus didn't look particularly enthused. "It's too early to be doing this," he yawned.

"We were supposed to have made them last night, but _you_ had other plans," she reminded him pointedly.

If Maliah wearing Regulus' shirt wasn't enough of an indication, Regulus' smirk pretty obviously suggested what they had done instead.

"How did you survive seven years of Hogwarts without making these?" he asked, holding up his ghoulish-faced turnip. "We should have been overrun by evil spirits without these little guys to scare them off."

Maliah grinned mischievously, "Who says I didn't make them?"

They were interrupted by a loud knock. "Maliah, its Amelia, open up!" a female voice called.

"Clearly you aren't so effective," Regulus muttered to his turnip as Maliah stood and pulled on a set of gray robes. "It's barely six in the morning," he whispered.

"What am I supposed to do, ignore her and hope she goes away?"

"It only sounds bad when you say it out loud," he reasoned.

Maliah smirked as she called to Amelia, "Hold on, I'm just… getting out of the shower."

"I'll be going then," Regulus said, rising to his feet.

"Just wait and she'll be gone in five minutes."

He objected even as she disillusioned him, ending their hushed conversation. He cast another spell, one that exuded purple light. Sirius didn't know what it would have been. The mess from their turnips appeared to clean itself as Maliah undid the enchantments on the door. Sirius felt a pull in the direction of the staircase, suggesting Regulus had gone up after clearing the mess.

"Took you long enough," Amelia Bones complained in a booming voice as she entered the room, looking her sister over critically.

They were both slim and around the same height, fairly tall, and had the same nose and eye color. The similarities ended there. Amelia had short reddish-blonde hair, while Maliah's dark, almost black, hair fell nearly to her waist. Amelia had a rather square jaw, while Maliah's features were softer – at least, when she wasn't glaring disdainfully at Gryffindors.

"You're lucky I'm even out of bed," Maliah said lazily.

Amelia glanced at her robes; Sirius hadn't noticed the Ministry of Magic crest at first.

"Do you still like being an Unspeakable?"

"Yes…" Maliah answered slowly.

"It suits you," Amelia nodded. "You've always liked secrets." Maliah scowled. "Do you remember my first job at the Ministry?"

"Muggle Worthy Excuse Committee – You hated it as I recall."

"I suppose that's the reason you threw around the family name to get a more appealing job?"

"You had the option to do the same," Maliah answered coolly, "but you decided to work your way up from the bottom, because you value _hard work_ ," she added somewhat mockingly. Sirius expected this wasn't a new argument they were having as Maliah had begun magicking her hair into loose curls mid-sentence, rather than giving her sister her full attention.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Amelia said. "In fact, I would argue you have pigeonholed yourself by working in the Department of Mysteries rather than-" as Maliah pulled her hair off of her shoulder, light reflected from the necklace around her neck. The pendant disappeared in her robes, though Amelia seemed to recognize it, her eyes narrowing, " _Homenum Revelio._ "

No light tracked Regulus, nor did his silhouette illuminate, which must've been the purpose of the purple spell.

"Well _that_ was intrusive," Maliah said irritably.

"I didn't want to risk being overheard."

"By _who_? Only you would think this is an acceptable hour to call on someone."

"I thought it more likely someone who stayed over rather than a new arrival," Amelia said pointedly.

Maliah scoffed, "Yeah, I'm a regular lady-of-the-night," she said dryly.

Amelia's lip twitched, "Interesting that was your first thought."

" _Why_ are you _here_?" Maliah pouted, sounding very much like a youngest child accustomed to getting their way.

"If you would have shown up last night, I wouldn't be."

"It was one family dinner, and I told mum and dad I couldn't go. They were fine with it."

"That's because they actually believed you when you said you had to work," she said reproachfully. "If they had been aware of Edgar's announcement, I expect they would have insisted you be there, no excuses."

"And what announcement was that?" Maliah asked, clearly expecting it to be a trivial matter.

"He's joining the Order of the Phoenix," Amelia said bluntly.

Maliah stared at her for a moment as if determined it was a joke. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as if she could already feel a headache coming on. "Why would he do that?" she asked in a choked voice.

"He's been thinking about it ever since you left school. You would know that if you came around more often."

"We're… neutral. He's only painting a target on his back."

Amelia scowled, "Father has been passing information to Dumbledore for years, and you insist on claiming we're neutral," Maliah's expression was impassive. "Too many people are dying, Maliah. The rest of the family has chosen its side. You should think about that."

The scene changed. It was another death eater meeting. Voldemort casually mentioned he had taken steps to prevent his mortal death. The masked death eater Sirius knew to be Regulus perked up slightly, at the mention of what he had done to conquer death. He looked around to see if anyone else seemed interested. It wasn't until their tasks for that evening were being assigned that anyone else showed any signs of life.

Regulus was in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place, sitting on his bed and reading what must have been a truly grotesque book, given his current expression. Sirius didn't want to think about what could be bad enough to turn a death eater's stomach. He shut the book in disgust and Sirius was able to read the title, "Secrets of the Darkest Art."

He flipped onto his stomach and pulled open the drawer of his bedside table, extracting a necklace. Sirius recognized it as the one he had given Maliah months before. Seeing it up close he could appreciate it was one of the less horrific Black heirlooms. The fact Regulus had it back suggested her family's stance had put a strain on their relationship.

He extracted his watch and cast a spell. What looked like a golden thread appeared, connecting the watch to the necklace. With a twist of his wrist the thread broke. It would have seemed melodramatic, if Sirius hadn't remembered the two objects were linked, likely by a form of the Protean Charm. Regulus appeared only to be returning the necklace to its normal state until he cast another spell. He picked it up to examine where he had forced an opening in the center. It now looked as if it had been a locket all along.

He seemed to be contemplating something and Sirius' heartrate increased with trepidation as he remembered Kreacher's story about a locket.

After a moment, Regulus' mind seemed to clear and he dropped the locket back into his drawer.

The scene changed and another death eater meeting was in progress. Voldemort was boasting about having acquired a spy in the Order of the Phoenix.

More scenes flickered in and out of focus- There were countless dead bodies. Blood. Sirius was reminded of traveling by floo, only without a destination. He had sinking suspicion these were memories Regulus very much wanted to forget.

When a new scene came into focus, Regulus was different. Far older than the time that passed should have warranted. It was another death eater meeting, though smaller this time and judging by those in attendance, it looked suspiciously like an inner-circle affair.

No one in attendance had bothered with masks. Sirius took a mental note of those he knew. There would have been more surprises if Igor Karkaraff had not ousted so many of them during the death eater trials following Voldemort's downfall.

Regulus was seated between Bellatrix and Corban Yaxley. By the surreptitious looks he was giving Augustus Rookwood, Sirius suspected he may have only just become aware of his affiliation.

"You've come a long way these past weeks," Bellatrix said approvingly. Regulus didn't answer. "I've felt pride in being your cousin."

"That says a lot coming from you," he said in a deadened tone. _It really did,_ Sirius agreed.

Voldemort began to speak and all of the chatter immediately died.

"As you all know, I've managed to acquire a spy within the Order of the Phoenix," he announced. As if it were the first time they'd heard the news, several felt the need to congratulate him, which he accepted arrogantly.

"Any chance the spy is Sirius?" Regulus asked Bella drolly.

She smiled, "It's even better," she promised.

Regulus watched her for a moment, clearly hoping she might divulge more. _Was that the reason for his change in behavior?_ Sirius wondered. Put it to the chosen memories he shared, but he had not seemed as ruthless as the death eaters who surrounded him prior to learning there was a spy in the Order. Now he was among them, talking to Bellatrix as almost an equal rather than her 'baby' cousin.

"It has since been brought to my attention we have a new enemy," Voldemort said. He didn't have to raise his voice to command everyone's attention. "A family previously sympathetic of our cause, Perhaps I should say a family who _pretended_ to be like-minded, has members who have joined the Order of the Phoenix!" He paused for dramatic effect.

"Who is it, My Lord?" Lucius' voice could be heard over the jeers.

"The Bones Family." Nearly everyone reacted with words of contempt or simply with looks of indignation. If anything, Regulus stood out by failing to react at all.

Voldemort allowed their feigned outrage to simmer for another moment before raising his hands to quiet them, "Yes, it was unexpected. The Bones' are one of the most respected families in Britain. I take this as a personal insult."

"The location of their Ancestral home is no secret," Rodolphus Lestrange remarked.

"They will be sleeping at this hour," Corban Yaxley added excitedly. "They all have to be at the Ministry bright and early, after all."

"The time is ripe for an attack," Voldemort agreed, "While they remain oblivious to our knowledge of their loyalty, however, a plan thrown together last minute will not suffice. We shall begin our preparations now – and we will attack with significant force tomorrow."

Sirius raised an eyebrow as when the scene changed, Regulus was climbing feet-first into a toilet. He pulled the chain and in the next moment was emerging from a fireplace in the Ministry of Magic, perfectly dry. The Atrium was easily recognized by the golden fountain in the center of the hall.

Regulus checked his watch and hurriedly made his way through the golden gates and into a smaller hall where queues were forming in front of twenty golden grilles, housing as many lifts.

 _What was he thinking?_ Even with his glamour concealing his features, he was being given a wide berth by Ministry employees arriving for work, who obviously didn't recognize him. He would have drawn less attention to himself if he'd used the visitor's entrance and checked in.

Regulus spotted Maliah and joined the queue behind her. Everything appeared to be going as he intended – when the grilles opened, Maliah entered the lift, Regulus followed her. As no one felt inclined to ride with a stranger, the grilles were beginning to close – only to waver when Augustus Rookwood thrust himself between, stalling them momentarily as he squeezed onto the lift.

"Good morning," Maliah greeted him amicably, as they ascended. Neither of them spared more than a glance at Regulus with his nondescript appearance.

"Is it?" Rookwood asked her sympathetically, "Forgive me, but you don't look like you feel any better than you did yesterday morning."

Sirius studied her. Her hair was pulled out of her face in a braid. Aside from being a bit paler than usual, he didn't think she looked much different. Based on the timeline, it suddenly occurred to him she was probably pregnant. Contrary to what he had told him about his reason for leaving, Regulus still appeared quite oblivious of that detail.

She scowled, "Tunneling in through the plumbing each morning has a way of turning my stomach. I'll be glad when the other avenues of entry are brought back."

The lift stopped, and the grilles opened. A cool female voice announced the departments on the seventh floor. The grilles shut with a clang and moved upward.

"I'm inclined to think those of us in the Department of Mysteries, have it the worst. These lifts taking us all the way to level one before letting us back down to level nine is a pain," he shook his head. "There isn't anything down there than can be seen from the entry hall anyway."

She nodded in agreement.

The lift stopped again, and the disembodied voice announced, " _Department of Magical Transport, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparition Test Center."_

Rookwood looked at her curiously, "It is my understanding the senior Ministry officials have maintained residential connection of the floo… You must no longer live in the home of your parents if you are using the same Ministry entrance as I am."

Maliah hesitated, "Regardless of our Ancestral home's connection, it is not intended for me to use it," she answered ambiguously.

" _I_ moved out of my parents' house at seventeen myself," Rookwood smiled as if it were an inconsequential matter. Maliah didn't answer.

The lift stopped again, and when the grilles opened, a squatty old witch was waiting to get on. Rookwood and Maliah both moved closer to Regulus to give her room.

Apparently deciding she looked worse than Sirius thought she did, Rookwood conjured a cup of steaming liquid and offered it to Maliah, "Pepper-up potion. You look like you could use it."

Regulus' hand twitched as if he were going to knock it away if she took it.

"I'm going to pass on having steam come out of my ears," she said in a regretful tone. "But thanks."

He shrugged and took a drink of it himself, "No use letting it go to waste," he said. She smiled faintly as the predicted steam became visible.

When the lift stopped again, the female voice announced, " _Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and the Pest Advisory Bureau."_

Dirk Cresswell, a former Gryffindor in Regulus' year, had obviously been waiting for the lift. As the squatty old witch was exiting, he caught sight of Maliah and hesitated.

"Ah, the age-old rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin," Rookwood chuckled. "Going up, son?" Cresswell nodded and Rookwood beckoned him forward. The doors clanged shut behind him and they ascended again. "Cresswell, isn't it?" The boy nodded again. "Well, don't worry. I won't let her hurt you," he assured him with a smirk at Maliah.

"It wouldn't be her anyway – more like her death eater boyfriend," he said brazenly.

"He has never been accused of being a death eater by anyone who wasn't a Gryffindor with a grudge," Maliah said, her tone sounding much more like the girl Sirius remembered from school.

Cresswell's eyes glinted, "You don't leave the Department of Mysteries very often, do you?"

"And who is this mystery guy you've never mentioned?" Rookwood interjected casually, though watching her intently.

"Michael Vaisey," Cresswell blurted out rather bizarrely. Maliah blinked in surprise. He was faced forward, away from them, but Sirius could see his eyes had glazed over as if from the effect of an Imperius curse. Her eyes drifted to Regulus but he acted oblivious of her attention. She put her hands in her pockets casually, though Sirius knew it had been to grasp her wand.

"Vaisey," Rookwood repeated. "You know, sometimes I think it's a curse of the Slytherins that everyone just assumes the worst of them."

Maliah appeared to be deep in thought when they stopped at level three. A witch in gray robes who Sirius recognized as an older Ravenclaw from his days in school entered the lift. She immediately engaged Rookwood and Maliah in conversation – disclosing she had said a little too much about her job as an Unspeakable and had to get help from one of the Obliviators to intervene. Their poorly disguised derision left their previous conversation forgotten.

The lift stopped again and the disembodied voice announced, _"Department of Magical Law Enforcement incorporating the Improper Use of Magic, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot and Administration Services"_

When the golden grille clattered open, Cresswell exited with Regulus whether he wanted to or not. Maliah looked very much like she wanted to go after them, but perhaps given the inopportune floor he had chosen, remained where she was.

Regulus found a private alcove and disillusioned himself and then led an Imperiused Cresswell directly into the office of the Wizengamot. Oh yes, Sirius was feeling very good about how 'reformed' his brother was now.

"I require an audience with Mr. Bones, please," Cresswell announced to the receptionist.

She raised an eyebrow, "Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"You'll need to make an appointment," she said flipping through a calendar. "It will be January."

"He would want to talk to me. Right now," Cresswell insisted.

Something, perhaps it was his canary yellow robes as each color seemed to indicate something relating to their job, gave her pause. "Mr. Bones is working from home today," she admitted.

Cresswell mumbled a 'thank you' and left without scheduling an appointment.

The auror's office was next door. Cresswell's step faltered and Sirius immediately knew why. There was a wall where portraits of known death eater's hung. At the end of the row, wearing Slytherin quidditch robes, which might as well have been neon and flashing for as much as they made his picture stand out, was Regulus' face, their newest known death eater.

He heard Regulus scoff and couldn't help but smile because he knew it would have been the choice of picture that offended him most. They rightfully got away from there as quickly as possible.

They entered the 'Improper Use of Magic' office where Amelia Bones could be seen in the back, talking with Barty Crouch Snr. Sirius was surprised Regulus didn't bolt from there just as quickly.

"Edgar Bones," Cresswell said to the receptionist. "He works in the Office for the Removal of Curses, Jinxes and Hexes. Is he in?"

"I know who Edgar is," the male behind the counter answered in a snarky tone. "A curse breaker was needed in Yorkshire – you just missed him."

If Cresswell's expression was any indication of Regulus' mood, the man was lucky he hadn't cursed him before leaving.

Sirius followed them to a back staircase and down a flight of stairs.

Cresswell approached the receptionist of the Obliviators unit, "Robert Bones, is he in?" he asked doubtfully.

"He was with a reversal squad sent out this morning," Cresswell was halfway to the exit before she'd even finished the sentence.

They returned to the stairwell and Regulus ended his curse before Obliviating Cresswell, all the while muttering he was as useless as ever. The latter was still blinking away his confusion as Regulus stormed down the rest of the stairs, back to the Atrium. He climbed into a fireplace and out of a toilet. When he was clear of the anti-apparition wards, he disapparated.

It was snowing in the meadow he arrived in. A large stone house loomed in the distance. He glanced around himself before walking towards it, clearing the footprints his feet left in the snow along the way. His approach to the house was less direct than systematic. As wards weren't infallible, it seemed someone had showed him a way around these.

He came within several meters of the house before Disapparating. Sirius reappeared with him in the entrance hall of the home. A set of glass doors that would have separated the hall from an office, stood open. Inside, the Bones Patriarch was sitting at a desk watching him with widened eyes. His surprise quickly morphed into thinly veiled anger as he drew his wand. Sirius highly doubted he had been the one who showed Regulus a means around the wards.

Regulus grimaced slightly but did not draw his wand, "The Dark Lord knows Edgar joined the Order and that you've been passing information to Dumbledore," he announced without preamble.

Silence hung between them for a moment.

"What a cruel twist of fate, you should be the one sent to deliver his message."

"No one sent me here," Regulus answered tersely. " _Voldemort_ intends to attack here tonight – clearly some protections should be added before that happens."

He stepped back, obviously intent to Disapparate. As he turned on his heel, it sounded as if the Bones Patriarch had called for him to wait, but he was already gone.

Regulus was in their father's office, returning several books to a hidden compartment in the wall.

He returned to his room and took out the necklace from his drawer. His impassive mask faded and he didn't bother to hide his anger anymore. He took out parchment and a quill. Sirius read from over his shoulder,

" _To the Dark Lord-_

 _I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more._

– _R.A.B"_

He folded the parchment and put it inside the necklace he had turned into a locket. He seemed to steel himself for a moment before putting it into his pocket and standing. He looked around his room as if it would be the last time he would see it.

He turned to leave his bedroom, only to be nearly hit by the door as it flung open, admitting Alec Selwyn.

Regulus' eyes widened comically.

Selwyn smirked, "Kreacher let me in and your mother told me I could come on up," he answered the unasked question.

"So, what's up?" Regulus asked in a horrible attempt at sounding casual.

Selwyn raised an eyebrow, "Just heard what we were doing tonight… Thought I'd come by and make sure you weren't doing anything stupid."

"Murdering blood traitors?" Regulus scoffed, "Just another day."

"That must be why you look like hell."

"You should check a mirror."

"I did on my up here. Perfect as always," he smiled brilliantly. "We should get to the Lestrange's. We're going to go over what we know about the Bones' defenses."

When the scene reformed, Regulus was with Selwyn, Carrow and Rowle, leaving the Lestranges.

Carrow furrowed his brow, "I just realized – what about Maliah?" Selwyn cast a furtive glance at Regulus, though Carrow and Rowle seemed oblivious of his discomfort.

"If she's fighting _with_ them, she's against us," Rowle said gruffly.

When the scene changed, Regulus was in the meadow, mere meters from the spot he had apparated to that morning. He shifted uncomfortably as he watched the stone house in the distance. There was a death eater an arm's length away on either side of him, and more on the other side of them, encircling the house. They were all biding their time, waiting for a signal to attack.

What they didn't realize was that thanks to an anonymous tip, Sirius had never dreamed was Regulus, Order members and Aurors alike were setting up around them, preparing to attack first.

The hair stood up on Sirius' neck as the oppressive feeling of anti-apparition wards formed around them. Regulus exchanged a look with Selwyn clearly not having expected them. Blue sparks were lit in the distance and the first round of penetration spells were fired at the protections surrounding the house. As they were casting at the house, it became pure chaos as the Aurors and Order members surrounding them attacked.

Not having cast a spell at the house, Regulus was one of the first to react. He pushed Selwyn out of the way of a curse. Even with only being able to see his eyes, Selwyn's look of ' _what the hell did you do?_ ' was clear.

Death eaters were being picked off and captured with vigor. At a time of increasing hopelessness, this night had been an unparalleled bright spot for the opposition against Voldemort. It was also likely because of this night that the Bones family was targeted relentlessly afterwards.

It was Remus who threw the first spell at Regulus. He deflected it, and ran. Remus would later tell him he looked like he was overwhelmed, even wildly speculating he had come to regret joining the death eaters given his death occurred only hours after. It was clear from the memory what he was really trying to get away from – dueling Edgar. Maliah's eldest sibling would have been an undesirable opponent for anyone, but Sirius suspected Regulus' reasons for avoiding him were more on a personal level.

The scene shifted and Regulus was in a copse of trees. His eyes were trained on Wilkes, who had been bound by Aurors though they had turned their backs on him, their attention drawn to other opponents. Regulus cast a severing charm at the magical bonds that bound him, to no avail. Wilkes looked back at him and angled himself in a way he could be better reached.

Regulus cast a cutting charm, and it was enough to set him free – with the minor setback of slicing through half his arm. Regulus cast another cutting charm on the ties that bound his legs, this time managing not to cut him. Wilkes nodded in thanks and took off running. Around that time the Aurors realized what was happening. Regulus took a stride towards Wilkes, intent to get out of the vicinity, but was tripped spectacularly, the effect of a tripping jinx. He turned around quickly and matching silver eyes met.

The Sirius in the memory gave him a look of loathing before disarming him and directing the Aurors in the direction Wilkes had gone. It occurred to Sirius how twisted both of their morals were. He had just ensured his death eater brother wasn't caught by aurors, while Regulus, who had seemingly changed sides in the war, helped his death eater friend escape capture without hesitation.

Regulus stared after Sirius for a moment before realizing his way was now clear. He retrieved his wand and took off in a sprint to the edge of the anti-apparition wards and disapparated.

He returned to Grimmauld Place and sought out Kreacher. His eyes were wide and it was clear he wasn't quite himself.

"Will you take me to the cave?" Regulus asked. "The cave where the Dark Lord took you."

Kreacher's eyes looked upward as if considering orders from someone upstairs. Likely both of their parents would have been asleep at that hour. Whatever the orders, they evidently did not override Regulus' request. He gave a great shudder, and grasped Regulus' arm before disapparating with him with a loud 'pop'.

Sirius was submerged in darkness. He kept expecting his eyes would adjust but even with Regulus' lit wand beside him, he could barely see where he was walking.

As they continued to walk he was able to discern they were standing on the edge of a black lake, large enough Sirius could not make out the distant banks, in a cavern so high the ceiling was likewise out of sight. A misty greenish light shone far away in what looked like the middle of the lake; it was reflected in the completely still water below. The greenish glow nor the light from Regulus' wand were enough to break through the darkness of the cave. It was somehow darker than normal darkness.

Their footsteps echoed as they walked along the narrow rim of rock that surrounded the lake. The scenery did not change as they walked – the rough cavern wall on one side of them, and on the other, the boundless expanse of black lake, where from the middle, exuded that mysterious green glow.

Regulus helped Kreacher pull up a tiny boat from the depths of the lake. Sirius got a sickened feeling as the two of them boarded the tiny boat. Regulus held his wand over the lake as it carried them to the island. He caught sight of a dead woman lying face-up, her open eyes misted as though with cobwebs while her long hair swirled around her wildly. He pulled back his wand then and Sirius caught sight of his face. He looked disgusted rather than nervous. There was something else too, but he couldn't quite place it.

They arrived on the island and Regulus approached the basin filled with emerald potion that emitted that phosphorescent glow. He waved his wand over it for a moment, testing out other possibilities, before conjuring a goblet. He rotated the cup in his hand, stalling for a moment. Kreacher reached a bony hand for the goblet, ending Regulus' hesitation.

"I have to drink all of this," Regulus said resolutely. He pulled out a mokeskin pouch and put his wand inside before tucking it back into his robes.

Kreacher gaped at him before pleading, "Kreacher will do it again."

"No," Regulus said, oddly smiling as if the idea of this was pleasing to him somehow. He reached into his pocket. "You will ensure I drink all of the potion – even if I tell you to stop, you are not to do so. When the basin is empty, you will switch the lockets. Destroy the "real" locket – the one in the basin. Do not _ever_ tell my parents what happened to me."

Kreacher nodded obediently but then screeched as Regulus raised a cupful of the fluorescent potion to his lips. He quickly drank and refilled the cup twice more before hesitating. He backed away from the basin in confusion and sat down, looking very much like he was in pain as he did so.

Thick tears fell from Kreacher's eyes as he took the goblet from Regulus' hand and refilled it with potion and fed it him, again and again. Regulus' face contorted in anguish. He covered his eyes with his hands and rubbed furiously as if trying to clear away images he didn't want to see. Very few sounds escaped his lips, perhaps conscious just enough to know he couldn't tell Kreacher to stop, less he might take it as an order.

"Master Regulus has to keep drinking," Kreacher whimpered, bringing the cup again to his lips.

When at last he had taken the last drink, Kreacher switched the lockets. While he was doing so, Regulus opened his eyes and looked around blankly. His eyes settled on the water and he crawled towards the island's edge. He scooped water into his hands and drank.

Just as Kreacher had said _, dead_ hands belonging to the inferi came out of the water and dragged Regulus beneath its surface. Kreacher's eyes widened in horror at seeing his beloved master go under.

Distraught as he was, he disapparated. The house-elf's highest law is his master's bidding, after all. _How then, was Regulus still alive?_

Everything went black. Sirius started to raise his head from the Pensieve, believing the memories to have ended, when he heard the sound of muffled voices.

Slowly, very slow, they became clearer.

A girl's commanding voice came through, "I don't care what orders _he_ gave you, if you want him to live, you'll help _me_!" Apparently not getting her way, she cast _"Imperio,"_ her voice trembling.

More blackness.

Sirius felt distinctly nauseated despite it being Regulus' memory. It was reminiscent of a time he was sick as a child and his mother Disapparated him to St. Mungo's, and he promptly vomited on the floor of their lobby.

At long last, an image came into focus. Regulus could have been dead, quite honestly. He was lying on a bed, not at Grimmauld Place. His skin had a yellowish tint, a part from his lips, which appeared to be slightly blue. He was covered with several blankets despite the room being very warm. His only visible skin was his face and it was marred by angry welts, from the apparent inferi that tried to drown him. Maliah was sitting beside him, watching. He opened his eyes and quickly closed them, blinded by the sudden brightness.

He opened them again, this time focusing on her for a moment before his eyes flitted away to the rest of the room.

"I'm… not dead," he said hoarsely, each of his words sounding physically painful.

The worry in her face waned some, replaced by stoicism "It's surely my imagination you seem disappointed."

"I don't expect I've got long left," he muttered rather indifferently.

"You betrayed the dark lord," she prompted. "You warned my father of an attack-"

He scoffed, "I thought he'd place a Fidelius – not an ambush." Noticing Maliah's look of guilt, he amended, "That was hardly the worst of my betrayal."

When he didn't elaborate, she left the room. Regulus' eyes closed instantly as if the minute of wakefulness had exhausted him. She silently returned a moment later and Regulus shuddered involuntarily as if having sensed her presence and it was distressing to him.

"Is this… what is this?" She asked, holding up a locket – it was not a Black family heirloom but a golden locket with a Serpentine _S_ , inlaid with glittering, green stones.

Regulus opened his eyes to see and his mouth fell open slightly, suddenly panicked. "How did you get that?" he asked, trying to push himself up, "Where's Kreacher? Why am I _here_?" Something about his left arm gave him pause. He threw off the covers to examine it, finding his forearm wrapped in a bandage.

"My father told me what you did… circumstances being as they are, he was adamant I stay away from the fight. I've been _needing_ to talk to you about something, but as our paths haven't crossed, and it isn't something…" She had been talking rather quickly, but trailed off suddenly. "Suffice to say, I've been putting it off," she concluded with a grimace.

"After I heard you'd warned my father, I just _knew_ … I was running out of chances to talk to you. I didn't even know where to look for you. I eventually asked Kreacher to let me wait in your room. I told him I wanted to give you a Christmas gift," she scowled. "I was waiting for you when Kreacher came back without you. I ordered him," she faltered slightly, "I _Imperiused_ him, and made him bring you back." Regulus was looking at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"I was certain you were dead already. And Kreacher was a lunatic, freaking out about needing to destroy that damn locket while you laid unconscious in the floor. My magic has been…off lately. I needed him to help me. I _Imperiused_ him again, and once I was sure you weren't going to die," she averted her eyes to the floor. "I had him alter your family's tapestry to show that you did – it's clearly what you intended. I had him bring you here. I then altered his memory. The last thing he remembers is when he was last with you. He thinks you're dead." It was clear she had left out some details.

"And this?" Regulus asked, indicating his arm.

The scene changed and Edgar Bones was there, looking at Regulus as if he just might change his mind and cast a killing curse, rather than continue their conversation. The locket was nowhere in sight.

"I managed to bind the magic from your dark mark. You won't have as much strength in that arm while the binding spell is in place – and if it becomes known you're alive, I expect You-Know-Who might be able to find a way around it."

Regulus looked at his left arm as if it were diseased, "How much less strength?"

He pursed his lips, "Hopefully you'll have enough to hold a baby-" he jerked as if he'd been stung and gave Maliah an irritated look before addressing Regulus again, "Only time will tell," he said, rising to his feet. "I'm sure Maliah's told you by now, she's pregnant." He ignored the look of outrage on her face, preferring the utter shock on Regulus'. "No? I should leave so the two of you can talk then."

The scene changed and Regulus was with Maliah's father looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Did Maliah tell you when _your_ baby is expected to be here?"

Regulus shifted uncomfortably, "Around the end of July."

"Does that mean anything to you?" he asked carefully.

Regulus furrowed his brow, "The date?" he asked in confusion. The Bones patriarch nodded. "Only that I'll still be eighteen when it – _he_ or _she_ gets here," sounding as if he still couldn't believe it himself.

"You've been declared dead by the Ministry – in trying to back out of the death eaters, you managed to get yourself killed."

"That would make sense," Regulus said blandly.

"I'm getting to be an old man myself." An odd look crossed Regulus' face at the subject change. "I've raised my children; traveled the world. I've found _people_ everywhere – magic or muggle, regardless of country are far more alike than they are different. Ultimately, the most important thing is knowing our loved ones are safe. Maliah is not safe here – scarcely more than you are now."

The scene changed and Regulus looked only slightly better. He was standing in the room Sirius immediately associated with turnips. He held a small vial of blood in his left hand, charming it to expand using the wand in his right hand. His left arm shook disproportionately as the vial increased in size and became heavier. He set it on the table after a moment, continuing to enlarge it.

Edgar apparated into the room, breaking Regulus' concentration, and nearly giving him a heart attack.

He scrunched his nose at the increasingly large container, "How much blood can one person have?"

Regulus winced slightly, and expanded it once more. Edgar clearly regretted asking. They were discussing how best to stage Maliah's murder when the scene changed.

Regulus and Maliah, in disguise, were at a muggle airport. Regulus was looking at the airplanes parked outside the window, clearly questioning their safety. Sirius withdrew himself from the Pensieve, able to piece together enough of the rest of it himself.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Hey! I've finished another update as you can see. I can't promise the frequent updates will last indefinitely (I really need to update my other story!) but hopefully you are enjoying them for now. Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed last chapter!

* * *

Regulus made an arrangement with Dumbledore. He wasn't getting the better end of it, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, despite knowing it could have been worse. In addition to sharing memories about Voldemort and his stint in the cave, he was now retrieving the Horcrux for Dumbledore to examine. _Just_ examine. Dumbledore assured him he only wanted to see for himself that it had been properly destroyed.

In his own miniscule victory, Dumbledore acknowledged the last two weeks Harry spent with his muggle relatives were enough to refresh the wards around their house on Privet Drive. His agreement to let Harry spend the rest of his summer with Sirius (for the sake of their mutual well-being) came only after Regulus made the mistake of pointing out they were each the closest thing to a proper family either had left. Dumbledore had immediately thrown it back on him – _he_ was actually the closest family _Sirius_ had left _. '_ What prevented them from rebuilding their relationship now?'

He insisted Regulus should accompany Sirius to retrieve Harry and bring him back to Grimmauld Place. _Why_ he wanted him to go, he hadn't worked out yet. Simply to force him and Sirius to spend together before he inevitably made himself scarce again perhaps? But then, surely Dumbledore had more important things to worry about than how much time two grown men, who happened to be brothers, were spending together. There had to be an ulterior motive.

His family had been having breakfast when he came in. At least, they were sitting at the table together. Only Caelum appeared to have actually eaten, his full breakfast nearly finished. Maliah was merely sipping on tea while even Carina's favorite chocolate croissant (Kreacher had likely offered it to her in effort to cheer her up) was left untouched.

He retrieved the once-Horcrux and returned to his former bedroom in Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore was serenely looking out the window when he got there – _his_ window. As a child he could have never imagined Albus Dumbledore in this house, much less his bedroom. Sirius had returned in his absence, his face now buried within the basin of the Pensieve.

"As you can see it is sufficiently destroyed," he said. He warily watched Dumbledore as he reached out his hand and took it from him to better examine it.

It was several long moments before he spoke.

"Indeed. Fiendfyre certainly did the trick," he concluded, though making no effort to return it.

Regulus heard Sirius emerge from the Pensieve. He could feel his eyes watching him. He knew he probably had questions, his memories had been rather disseminated, after all. They would have time for questions on their way to get Harry – there were more pressing matters at hand.

"I'll have that back now," he said rather possessively, holding his hand out to Dumbledore.

To his relief, Dumbledore hesitated only a moment before returning it without argument. Perhaps he was a bit overly attached to it, but retrieving the locket had nearly cost him his life. He wasn't going to give it away lightly.

"Is that it?" Sirius asked, coming closer to examine it, "the Horcrux?"

"It was a Horcrux… before I destroyed it."

"How did you manage that?" Sirius asked, smiling slightly.

Regulus gave him an odd look on his way towards the Pensieve. "A bit of snake charming and fiendfyre." Sirius furrowed his brow in obvious confusion. "I take it you didn't watch all of the memories?"

"I thought it was just personal stuff left," he answered defensively. "Destroying Voldemort's Horcrux though, that I'd love to watch."

"You had your chance," Regulus shrugged. He pointed the tip of his wand into the basin, removing his memories. "It wasn't my idea to show you any of that in the first place. As it wasn't the _only_ Horcrux, it was all a waste anyway."

"It wasn't a waste," Dumbledore assured him. "It means we have one less Horcrux to hunt down."

"There are more?" Sirius asked with dread.

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore answered gravely, his eyes still on Regulus.

"It shouldn't be ruled out that he would have another means to come back in case his Horcruxes failed," he commented.

"I understand _why_ you want to believe he used a secondary method, but you and I both know Voldemort to be exceedingly arrogant. He would not have doubted his Horcruxes would work anymore than he would have suspected someone else could figure out he was making them.

"It is imperative that he does not find out we know about his Horcruxes, less he would make our job more difficult. As it is, the Horcruxes could be anything, hidden anywhere."

Regulus pursed his lips. He wanted to correct him: it would make _their_ job more difficult. Not _his_. He'd told them about the locket – he ensured Sirius knew there were Horcruxes-though apparently Dumbledore already knew about them. As far as he was concerned he'd done his part. Why then, wasn't he separating himself from this?

"If I am correct, a part from Voldemort himself, there is only one person who isn't in this room that knows Voldemort created a Horcrux."

"Who would that be?" Sirius started to ask, before "Oh," obviously having figured it out for himself.

"Maliah Bones," Dumbledore answered unnecessarily.

"Black," Regulus corrected him automatically.

"Lovely," he smiled approvingly. "Can we agree no one else needs to know about them?" he asked, looking at each of them in turn.

"What about Harry?" Sirius inquired. "We have to tell him – I still think he should know about the Prophecy too."

Dumbledore shook his head remorsefully, "We've discussed the Prophecy; there is no use in worrying him with it now. Beyond that, his knowing of the Horcruxes would make it more likely Voldemort will find out we know about them."

Regulus studied him. He hadn't been able to give much thought to the Prophecy yet, nor was Divination something he generally put much value in. That wasn't what caught his attention.

The more people who knew about the Horcruxes obviously made it more likely Voldemort would realize they knew his secret. There was something in Dumbledore's demeanor that seemed to suggest he thought Harry, specifically, would make it more likely Voldemort would find out rather than the sheer risk of allowing more people to know about them.

"Voldemort won't get close enough to Harry to read his mind if I have anything to say about it," Sirius answered fiercely. A pained look flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. "But the prophecy says _he_ is the one who will defeat him. How can he do that if he doesn't know about the Horcruxes?"

"There will likely come a time when Harry will need to be told about them. Right now, he is a fourteen year old boy who recently witnessed a friend being murdered by the same man who killed his parents. I'm inclined to think we should wait before delivering any other unsavory news to him," Dumbledore asserted. "Now, I believe Regulus is in a hurry to get back to his family, and there is still a matter of retrieving young Harry to attend to."

" _What?"_ Sirius looked between the two of them.

"I have arranged for the Dursley's to be gone while you and Regulus pick up Harry," Dumbledore explained. "You should hurry and go now… that is, if you still want Harry to spend the summer with you?"

"Of course, I do," Sirius answered, his irritation obviously abating at the prospect of rescuing his godson.

* * *

When Sirius heard he and Regulus were going to 'pick up' Harry, he hadn't expected they were literally going to pick him up. In a car. He'd seen Regulus drive before but he had looked nothing like himself then. Sirius hadn't even been positive it _was_ him at the time.

But here he was, weaving in and out of London traffic with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to driving in large muggle cities on a daily basis. In current traffic, their trip from the borough of Islington to Surrey should have taken nearly two hours. At their current pace it would probably take less than an hour.

The black sedan mounted the pavement more than once to avoid slow-moving vehicles, yet never managed to hit the lines of lamp posts or muggles walking. Nor did they draw attention from any of the law enforcement officials monitoring for reckless drivers. No one seemed to notice them at all.

It wasn't as good as his motorbike that would have allowed them to bypass traffic entirely, but Sirius could admit it wasn't a bad way to travel. The windows were tinted dark enough no one could see inside. And if Regulus were to decide to abide by the rules of traffic, they would be perfectly disguised among the muggles. Sirius turned the knob on the dashboard to see what would happen and enjoyed the feel of cold air blowing in his face.

He soon found himself casting furtive glances at Regulus as he drove the muggle car, a slight smile tugging at his lips when he did so. There _was_ something different when he looked at him now.

" _What?"_ Regulus finally asked in annoyance.

"You turned against Voldemort."

"You knew that."

"Not exactly. I thought…" Regulus gave him a look. He'd already told him what he thought. "I'm sorry."

Regulus scowled, "We're not doing this."

"Doing what?" Sirius asked in bewilderment. He'd just apologized!

"Dredging up anything more from the past. We were both stupid," Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Especially me," he admitted. "But it was a long time ago. For the love of magic, let's move on."

 _For the love of magic_ , Sirius mouthed to himself, looking at Regulus from the corner of his eye. He shook his head, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you were different."

Regulus looked irritated for a moment before exhaling slowly, "You had no reason to."

Sirius smiled, "I never would have imagined you fully, irrevocably turned against him, with a hearty 'go screw yourself' on the way out."

"Well, he had Bella, so…"

Sirius felt momentarily ill, "Did you have to give me that mental image?"

"I sensed you needed the reality check." He answered dryly.

"You… walked to your imminent death in that cave! You sacrificed yourself to help bring down Voldemort." He pressed his lips into a tight line, wondering if he ought to be more concerned that his brother had attempted suicide "Ill-thought out as it was not to have gotten help–it _was_ brave." He refrained from making a reference to Gryffindor, knowing it would only spoil the compliment.

Regulus frowned slightly, "Don't delude yourself into thinking it was some great heroic act, Sirius."

"Are you trying to be _modest_?" he asked incredulously. "You should be preening from all this praise I'm trying to lavish upon you right now."

Regulus' eyes flitted to his before returning to the road ahead, his expression unreadable. "I did horrible things as a death eater," he admitted dully. "Even after learning about the Horcrux, I hesitated. I did what was expected of me for the sake of preserving my own life. Ultimately, I chose to drown in a cave, stealing Voldemort's Horcrux, rather than be killed by him or on his orders."

Sirius furrowed his brow. "It looked to me like you made up your mind to find out what Voldemort was hiding the moment Kreacher came back from that cave- you betrayed Voldemort in allowing Kreacher to live. Once you figured out it was a Horcrux, you seemed only to be waiting for the right moment... I thought you were trying to find out who the spy was, but… I don't expect the Bones family would have survived the attack at their house if you hadn't warned them."

Regulus grimaced at the mention of his mostly deceased in-laws, "Regardless… the debacle at their house would have been connected to me – my relationship with Maliah wasn't a well-kept secret. Ultimately, stealing the Horcrux… was far more defiant than brave."

Silence hung between them as Sirius considered his words. He wanted to refute them. Destroying the Horcrux had been both defiant _and_ brave. From the window he saw the city landscape had been replaced by the manicured lawns of the suburbs indicating they were nearly to Harry's house. He thought better than to push the issue now.

His mind drifted to his apparent sister-in-law.

Maliah Bones had been one of the more reserved Slytherins. James had known her when they were younger, rather, his parents had been friendly with hers. They had once overheard her reprimanding a muggleborn at Hogwarts for deriding wizarding customs, much to James' disgust. Sirius had agreed with him on principle, though her words had been far less offensive than what regularly rolled off the tongues of most of her housemates, Regulus certainly included.

"Maliah Bones?" he asked, deciding to broach the subject bluntly.

"Obviously," came Regulus' unsurprising response.

"How long have you been married?"

Regulus' lips twitched, "My normal answer would be sixteen years."

"Which is obviously a lie," Sirius answered matter-of-fact. There was no way Regulus could have gotten married at seventeen without him hearing about it.

He shrugged lightly, "The date we got around to signing a bit of parchment is trivial. There's never been anyone else."

"That's…" a multitude of things crossed Sirius' mind to say: _scandalous_ ringing loudest in his ear because it was Regulus who had said it. He was meant to be the proper one of the two of them. Pre-Azkaban, he might have even said _depressing –_ but if that were true, it didn't explain the inexplicable loneliness he suddenly felt. He quashed it down quickly. " _Not_ traditional," he settled on.

Regulus gave him a sardonic look without commenting.

"May I hear the names of my niece and nephew?" he asked mildly.

"Acknowledging the relation now, are you?"

"They… caught me by surprise, okay? Surely that is understandable. I'd barely accepted you were alive and then they were there-"

"You called _him_ there."

"I was expecting you. I didn't even know _he_ existed!"

"If I tell you their names, will you stop this inquisition? I have questions of my own, you know."

Sirius considered him for a moment before nodding.

Regulus ran a hand through his hair, before resting his elbow on the window frame. Sirius sensed he really didn't want to tell him but it was his desire for his own questions to be answered that kept him talking.

"My daughter is called Carina, and my son is Caelum." Sirius barely had time to register their names had not been recycled from any past relatives before he was changing the subject. "You aren't staying there because of nostalgia. So _why_?"

Sirius knew what place he was talking about even if the Fidelius Charm prevented him from forming the words. "It is the only option that is safe _and_ near Harry."

"After we get Harry, you can take him anywhere you want for the summer. You don't have to torture yourself by staying _there_."

"Its Headquarters, it's convenient, and it's safe. Harry's friends are there already. They're as anxious as I am to see him."

"If his friends go to Hogwarts, they've spent the past ten months with him," Regulus pointed out.

"His friends are his family," Sirius answered tersely. "I don't expect you can understand that, but I do."

Regulus pursed his lips, "Circumstances being as they are… how much time have you been able to spend with him?"

"If I had it my way he would live with me," he answered defensively. "I invited him to when I thought my name would be cleared but… a year later I'm still on the run."

Neither of them spoke for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

"I always hated where we lived," Regulus admitted. Sirius raised an eyebrow. He'd have never guessed Regulus was unhappy there; He'd always seemed perfectly content. "Nowhere to fly," he explained. "Our magic used to hide our house from the muggle neighbors," he scoffed. "And then we would complain about having to hide our magic… Why did we stay there?"

Sirius smirked slightly, "I didn't."

"But now you are back." His smirk turned into a scowl. "I'd go mental if I were pent up in that house very long."

"No one would doubt I've got a stronger constitution than you," he answered smugly.

"There must be some other safe house you could go to for a while," Regulus remarked, choosing to ignore his comment if he'd heard it at all. He appeared to be deep in thought. "Someplace less… suffocating, where you and Harry could have some semblance of a normal summer together."

"The other properties of our estate were less protected than our ancestral home. The Ministry will have means to monitor them – if not _seize_ them. It isn't worth the risk."

"What if there was another place? Somewhere you could train him-"

"There isn't," Sirius snapped, beginning to get annoyed.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, "Will he be allowed to practice magic?"

Sirius thought about it. Despite the wards in place that would have prevented detection, none of the underage kids currently at Grimmauld Place had been allowed their wands. He didn't expect he could allow Harry to use magic without causing a rift.

"The Order members are a bit stricter with the _Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery_ than our parents were," he admitted.

"He'll be living as a muggle then."

"That is common practice," Sirius countered, suddenly aware he sounded like Remus. "He is underage."

Regulus leaned his head against the seat and sighed.

Of course it must seem ridiculous to him that Harry couldn't practice magic while he was underage – he'd become a death eater when he should have still had the trace on him.

Undoubtedly Regulus was a special case in that regard, but not even the Potter's had enforced the Decree in their house, and they certainly _weren't_ dark wizards. He and James had practiced spells during their breaks together at the Potter's estate, just as easily as he and Regulus had done at Grimmauld Place. And just as easily as Harry would be able to, he decided. He simply would have to make it known he was Harry's guardian and it was his choice once they got back.

* * *

Harry had been awake for some time, but without his aunt screaming at him to get out of bed, he was gazing apathetically at the ceiling of his bedroom in number four, Privet Drive. He was in this state when his Uncle Vernon entered his bedroom. He was wearing one of his best suits and an expression of extreme smugness.

"Your aunt Petunia, Dudley and I are going out, he announced proudly.

"Good," Harry answered indifferently.

"You may stay in your bedroom, or go outside."

"Okay."

"You are not to steal food from the fridge, touch the television, stereo, or any of our possessions."

"Fine," Harry said dully as his stomach growled. He resolved to find something to eat from the cupboard as soon as they were gone.

His Uncle Vernon glared at him suspiciously for a moment, then stomped out of the room, closing the door behind him. He heard his heavy footsteps carry him down the hall. A few minutes later he heard the sound of car doors slamming, and the rumble of an engine and knew they were gone.

His eyes drifted to the open window, hoping to see Hedwig returning with his letter from Sirius.

He must have dosed off as he startled awake some time later. He listened intently, trying to figure out what had woken him up. Had he been asleep long enough for the Dursleys to be back?

He heard footsteps from below and snatched up his wand from his bedside table. It was a risk, openly carrying his wand in the house, but it was an even bigger one to be caught without it. He cautiously left his bedroom and slowly made his way across the landing, intermittingly walking and stopping to listen.

The overheard light was turned on and he saw Sirius at the bottom of the stairs grinning madly at him. Harry lowered his wand but did not release his grip on it.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, warily walking towards him. He had reason to be suspicious, after all. He'd just spent the school year believing his _Defense against the Dark Arts_ professor was the former Auror he said he was. Instead he had been a death eater, impersonating the Auror. It was a mistake that nearly resulted in his death – and did result in a friend's.

Sirius' smile faded, "Look, I'm sorry about the other night. I should have talked to you before running off like that."

Harry's suspicions faded, replaced by the hurt and resentment he'd felt since the beginning of summer.

"You're sorry? Sorry! All summer I've been stuck here; nothing but useless letters for company! You couldn't take two more seconds when you were here to say… anything-!"

"It was my fault," a new voice said. Its owner, a slender dark-haired man, who had joined his godfather at the bottom of the stairs. His resemblance to Sirius was undeniable.

"This is my younger brother Regulus," Sirius explained. Harry looked between them as the man called Regulus closed the distance between them, extending his hand. Harry shook it dully.

"We've met before," he explained. "I looked quite a lot older and plumper then, but it was because of me that Sirius didn't stick around longer that night."

"Mr. Eddings?" Harry asked numbly.

He smirked, "I wasn't sure if I'd left enough of an impression for you to remember."

"It isn't a night I'll be forgetting anytime soon," Harry admitted. He felt embarrassed by his outburst. Not only had it been witnessed by a stranger, but he hadn't given Sirius much of a chance to explain. "What are you doing here?" he asked Sirius again, hoping his tone this time conveyed he was glad to see him.

"We're here to collect you," Sirius smiled and Harry hated that it looked so much more tentative this time. He walked down the rest of the stairs, stopping himself just before flinging his arms around him, and offered his hand instead.

Sirius ignored it, engulfing him in a hug anyway.

"It's good to see you… Prongslet," Sirius chuckled. It was a nickname Harry hadn't heard him use before and wondered if it was more for his brother's benefit as he thought he heard him scoff at it. When he looked at him after Sirius released him though, his expression was politely curious.

"Dumbledore arranged for your family to be gone when we got here," he said as if the previous exchange hadn't happened.

"He didn't trust us to be civil," Sirius added wryly.

"Well, _they_ wouldn't have been," Harry answered resentfully.

Rather eerily, neither of the brothers reacted to his statement, instead they watched him with near-identical, unreadable expressions.

Sirius cleared his throat, "Dumbledore requested I write your aunt and uncle a letter explaining that you've gone, you're safe, and that they shouldn't worry."

"They won't," Harry answered dully, taking sudden interest in a speck of dirt on the floor.

"Also that he'll be back next summer," Regulus reminded him.

"Do I have to?" Harry asked. When neither of them answered he looked up and saw the two of them were staring at each other.

"We'll talk about it later," Sirius decided after another moment of their silent conversation.

Regulus' lips were pressed together tightly as if to keep himself from objecting.

"I'll need something to write with," Sirius announced, ignoring him.

Harry led them into the kitchen where he retrieved a notebook and pen for him to use. Sirius stared at the pen for a second. Harry was just about to ask if he knew how to use it when he pushed the top, exposing the tip. His hand hesitated over the paper, an amused expression appearing on his face.

"Go get your things while I write this," he said gently.

"Do you want some help packing?" Regulus offered.

"Sure."

He followed Harry back into the hall and up the stairs. He was looking around as if mildly disgusted by everything in the house. Harry suddenly felt embarrassed to show him his room. At least the rest of the house was clean. He hadn't even made up his bed yet. He knew most of his books were strewn around and Hedwig's cage was beginning to smell.

"I…would have cleaned if I'd known you were coming," the words spilled out as they entered the room.

Regulus waved a hand dismissively, "My kids' rooms would look worse if not for our house elf."

Harry looked at him in surprise, both that he had children and a house elf. The Malfoys and Crouches were the only families he'd known with house elves. As they'd both abused them in their own way, children seemed like a safer topic. "You have children?"

"A daughter your age and a son who is eleven," he confirmed.

Harry gaped at him. He didn't look old enough to have a kid his age. Hadn't Sirius even said he was his _younger_ brother?

Regulus smiled slightly, "Shall we pack, little lion?"

"Oh, yeah." Harry answered, shaking his head. "Er- Sirius told you I was in Gryffindor?" he asked as he began to pile books into his trunk.

"Lucky guess," Regulus answered wryly as he examined Hedwig's cage.

"Were you in Gryffindor too?"

He wrinkled his nose slightly, "No, I was in Slytherin."

"Wow," Harry said. "I knew families didn't have to go together but that… that's quite the opposite."

"It was Sirius who was the oddball in our family," he explained before tipping Hedwig's cage onto its side and shaking it so the excrement and leftover food scattered in the floor. "Everyone else went to Slytherin," he said as he nonchalantly sat the 'freshly cleaned' cage beside the trunk.

Harry had a mental image of his aunt finding the mess and decided he'd packed quite enough already. He hoped it would be at least another year before he saw his relatives again.

"I didn't know that," he admitted as he closed his trunk. "I didn't even know Sirius had a brother," he added, not quite managing to keep the bitterness from his tone.

"It's for good reason he doesn't talk about me. I'm supposed to be dead."

"Why?"

He looked as if he would answer but then glanced around them, and seemed to decide it wasn't the right place for the conversation.

"I expect you will find that out sooner rather than later. For now, our priority is to get you out of here."

"Okay," Harry agreed, appeased enough for now, just to know he was leaving.

Regulus carried his trunk down the stairs, insistent they shouldn't use any magic. Harry followed him with Hedwig's cage. Regulus said he was going to leave his trunk by the front door and turned towards it. Harry started to go and find Sirius in the kitchen before deciding to leave Hedwig's cage with the trunk. He turned in time to see Regulus set his trunk down beside the front door and immediately flex his left arm as if it were irritated. When he saw Harry watching him, he stopped what he was doing and smiled tightly,

"Is Sirius ready?" He inquired.

Apparently hearing his name, Sirius joined them, "I'm ready when you are."

Harry found himself again at the center of their attention and shifted uncomfortably,

"I'm ready," he answered. It occurred to him only as they were loading into the car he had no idea where they were going. He shrugged, wherever it was, it had to be better than here, he reminded himself.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I would love to hear what you think about it/the story in general!


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thanks to everyone for all of the reviews/feedback last chapter. It was quite motivating it seems as this chapter came together quickly- parts of it is canon-like though, so that contributed. Next chapter won't be very canon-like..

* * *

'Mr. Eddings' leisurely drive through Little Whinging, had clearly not been a good representation of Regulus' normal driving. As Harry was jostled around in the backseat, he was reminded of his one, and thankfully only, trip on the Knight bus. After a particularly sharp turn in which he nearly fractured his elbow on the seatbelt fasten, he thought to utilize the restraint. He was better able to ignore the feeling they were all going to die after that, so long as he kept his eyes inside the car.

"Where are we going?" He asked after he'd gotten somewhat settled.

Sirius seemed to be choosing his words carefully, "A safe house in – not far from here. The Weasley's are there. Hermione too – her parents met Molly and Arthur on Monday."

"Ten months wasn't enough time away from her parents?" Regulus asked critically.

Sirius gave him an exasperated look, but it was a fair point, Harry mused bitterly. He'd been forced to stay with relatives who hated him longer than Hermione lasted with her own parents, whom she had a good relationship with.

"We can't all be the favorite child," Sirius said mildly.

Hermione was an _only_ child, Harry thought broodingly.

His dark musings were interrupted when Sirius handed him a piece of parchment. "Memorize that and then give it back," he said.

Harry unfolded the paper. The narrow handwriting looked vaguely familiar. It said _: "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."_

He read it again before passing it back to Sirius, "What is the Order of the Phoenix?" he asked.

"It's a secret group, founded by Dumbledore, during the last war," Sirius answered as he set fire to the paper with his wand tip. When it was mostly incinerated, he opened the window and dropped it out, seemingly forgetting about it the moment it was gone. Harry could see Regulus watching it from the rearview mirror, a pensive look on his face. "We," he glanced at Regulus and quickly amended, "Its members, fought against Voldemort the last time."

Harry inferred Regulus had not been in this Order-thing during the last war. He wondered why he was supposed to be dead, but the question that had plagued him all summer was too heavy on his mind to ask now.

"Where is Voldemort?" he blurted out. "What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the muggle news but I haven't heard of any mysterious deaths or anything that sounds like him."

"He is laying low for now," Sirius answered. "His return didn't come together quite like he hoped."

"Why not?"

"You survived, and you warned Dumbledore, who immediately re-instated the Order. He's lost some element of surprise."

"As for what he's doing, I expect he'll want to build his army up before coming out into the open," Regulus said. Sirius nodded.

"What is the Order doing then?" Harry asked. "Warning everyone that he is back?"

"We're trying to. Many of us, like me, aren't in a position to do much in that area. And then we have a few Ministry employees, Arthur Weasley included, who would be risking their jobs if they aren't careful."

"The Ministry is ignoring what is happening," Regulus prompted.

"Right," Sirius said. "You saw Fudge the night of the final task. He hasn't become anymore reasonable since then. Instead, he's convinced himself that Dumbledore has begun a fear-mongering campaign that will enable him to replace Fudge as Minister."

"That's ridiculous," Harry said indignantly. "Dumbledore doesn't want to be Minister!"

"I know that. But it's easier for Fudge to convince himself that Dumbledore wants his job than it would be to accept Voldemort is back. He's started a smear campaign against him – and against you for that matter," he added apologetically.

"Against _me_?" Harry asked in surprise, "Why me?"

"You are the reason Dumbledore is claiming Voldemort is back. Fudge is using his influence over the news outlets to see to it both of your names are being run through the mud."

"I've been getting, _The Prophet,_ I haven't seen anything about me except the announcement I'd won the tournament."

"You'd have to read thoroughly to find the references," Regulus said, drawing a surprised look from his brother. "It's usually subtle – the casual comment about your supposed penchant for tall-tales tucked away in the most unlikely of articles. It seems they are trying to quietly plant the idea in the minds of readers that you are attention-seeking rather than outright saying as much."

"For Dumbledore it's not been subtle," Sirius added, "They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot – that's the Wizard High Court. He's likely going to be voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards. They're having a vote next week on the grounds that he's getting old and losing his mind. It's really because he gave a speech announcing that Voldemort's returned.

Harry had subconsciously leaned forward in his seat, eager to hear news, but now slouched back grumpily.

"If Voldemort is trying to recruit more death eaters, won't it be obvious he is back?"

"He doesn't go banging on doors and announcing he needs followers." Sirius said. "He tricks, jinxes and blackmails people to do his bidding when he can." He glanced at Regulus. "And his trusted death eaters bring potential recruits to him, so he doesn't have to make much effort there."

"He'll release Bella and the others from Azkaban soon," Regulus said somberly.

Before Harry could ask who Bella was, Sirius remarked,

"There is something else he wants, besides more followers. Dumbledore thinks he's concentrating on getting it at the moment."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Something he didn't have the last time – like a secret weapon."

"It's more like _knowledge_ than a secret weapon," Regulus said with a warning look. "And we don't have it either."

"Dumbledore has it, the knowledge, that is."

"Perhaps you could convince him to share it with you then – before alarming anyone with half-truths and assumptions."

"Dumbledore said to tell Harry what he needs to know. I happen to think this is something he _needs to know_. Quite honestly, I expected you would agree."

"I can't agree _or_ disagree without more details," Regulus answered grimly.

"Whatever it is, I want to know," Harry interjected. "I want to join the Order and I want to fight."

Sirius nodded in approval, a rather smug look on his face.

"You're underage," Regulus said instantly.

"I've faced him before," Harry said fiercely. "I'm not afraid."

"Surviving against him was no small feat, but do not become overconfident," he advised sternly. "You should focus on training – learning new skills, not needlessly taking on Voldemort and his death eaters before you have to."

Sirius let out a long-suffering sigh, "We'll talk more about it inside," he said as the car rolled to a stop.

Harry looked out the window and raised an eyebrow. They couldn't have been in a less inviting neighborhood. The grimy fronts of the houses surrounding them had a compilation of broken windows and peeling paint. Heaps of rubbish laid outside several sets of front steps.

"This is where we're staying?" he asked. Sirius nodded, and Harry realized he looked more apprehensive about it than even he felt. "Which one is it?"

Regulus tilted his head, "Think about what you memorized," he suggested.

Harry looked in the direction he indicated and recalled what he had read. The moment he thought, 'number twelve, Grimmauld Place,' a battered door appeared between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. The hidden house, pushed its neighbors out of its way as it appeared. Harry gaped at the houses in motion, expecting someone to come outside and see what was happening.

"You don't have to stay here," Regulus said offhandedly. "We could come up with something else."

Harry nearly chimed in that something else was probably better. This place made him uneasy and he hadn't even been inside yet.

Sirius didn't seem to hear him, and whatever emotion he was harvesting vanished instantly. "Thanks for the ride," he said jauntily before climbing out of the car.

"Don't waste the summer," Regulus called after him just before the door shut.

"You aren't going with us?" Harry asked.

Regulus turned in his seat to look at him. "I'm not a member of the Order. In fact, I'm not even supposed to be alive." The subject of _why_ he was supposed to be dead hadn't come up on their drive over. "Please _do_ , remember that," he added wryly.

"Of course," Harry agreed. "Will I see you again?" he asked, feeling awkward though it seemed important. Despite being a former Slytherin and at times exhibiting the same air of self-superiority that Harry associated with Draco Malfoy, he had co-rescued him from the Dursleys. He was also Sirius' brother and he found he was quite curious to know more about Sirius' family now that he'd given more thought to them.

Regulus smiled fleetingly and it was enough to remind Harry of the picture he had of a much happier Sirius from his parents' wedding. He had similar good looks to his brother without the toll of Azkaban. Harry tried to picture a Sirius who was married and with kids of his own to go home to. He wasn't sure where he would fit into that picture, but had trouble dispelling the image once it was there.

"I expect we might. In the meantime, take care of yourself, Harry." He held out his hand. This time Harry shook it firmly.

"It was nice to meet you," he said politely before clambering out the door and following Sirius up the worn stone steps.

He had just enough time to recognize the newly materialized black door had a silver door knocker in the form of a twisted serpent, before Sirius set off a series of metallic clicks followed by what sounded like a clatter of a chain. He glanced behind them, expecting to see the black sedan either parked or just pulling away. It was gone entirely.

The door creaked open, and Sirius motioned for him to go inside. When the door shut behind Sirius they were enclosed in near-complete darkness. Harry heard a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gas lamps came to life along the walls, revealing the outdated furnishings of the long hallway they stood in. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a nearby table were shaped like serpents. And while the hall appeared clean, it was dark and there was an inexplicable feeling of gloom that hung over the room. A quick glance at his godfather suggested the momentary burst of enthusiasm he'd shown in the car had merely been an act. He didn't like this place any better than Harry did.

"This is the headquarters for the opposition against Voldemort?" he asked doubtfully. "It looks like it should belong to dark wizards."

Sirius smiled humorlessly. "This is where I grew up."

Harry's mouth clamped shut for a moment. "S-sorry. Regulus," Sirius closed his eyes at the mention of his brother's name, "– the rest of your family, that is, I knew they were in Slytherin. I just – this isn't what I expected."

Sirius held up a hand and Harry realized he wanted him to stop talking so he could listen. After a moment, he opened his eyes, "I should show you something before everyone realizes you're here."

Beckoning him to follow quietly, he led him past a set of long curtains that might have been covering a door, around a large umbrella stand that looked as if it had been made from a severed troll's leg and finally up a dark staircase.

"You can use magic, by the way," Sirius said as they walked. "Underage magic can't be detected here."

"Really?" Harry asked happily. Gloomy house or not, his summer had improved drastically in the span of a couple of hours.

Sirius nodded, "Regulus and I did all the time."

Harry's eyes lingered on a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. A closer look revealed they were shrunken house elves. He shook his head. Neither Sirius nor Regulus seemed like they would have grown up here. He couldn't imagine _anyone_ living here.

From the landing, Sirius directed him through a doorway.

"In this, the drawing room, we have our family tapestry, which contains our family tree – evidence of our blood purity," he announced dully. "I haven't looked at in years," he said more to himself than Harry.

The tapestry looked immensely old, with dates from the Middle Ages evidencing the sentiment. It was faded, but the golden thread with which it was embroidered glinted brightly enough to be easily read.

"You'll find our family motto at the top, ' _Toujours Pur_.' If the house hasn't already, _that_ should tell you what sort of wizards my family were." Harry furrowed his brow. " _Always Pure_ ," Sirius clarified.

Harry scanned the bottom of the tree and found Regulus' name. He noted he'd been born in 1961, with a death date listed in 1979. Sirius ran his hand over the area surrounding his brother's name as if expecting more names to reveal themselves.

"You aren't on here," Harry noted.

"I used to be there," he pointed to what looked like a cigarette burn near Regulus' name. "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home."

"You ran away from home?"

Sirius nodded, "When I was sixteen. I'd had enough of their pureblood mania – my parents thought to be a Black practically made you royalty."

"Where did you go?"

"I went to your dad's place. Your grandparents were really good about it, they adopted me as a sort of second son."

Harry's eyes flitted to the tapestry, "And your brother? What happened to him?"

"I expect it made life quite difficult for him when I left," he admitted. "Blacks… there are certain expectations. He joined the death eaters at sixteen."

"What? No way," Harry said, thinking of the person he'd met twice now.

"He was an idiot," Sirius nodded, "but I don't know that he had much choice really. Our family pushed him to do it – his friends were in Slytherin, most of them joined. _I_ certainly wasn't there to stop him," he said bitterly. The idea of it made Harry feel sick. "He was killed when he wanted out – it's not like Voldemort would have accepted his resignation. It's a lifetime of service or death."

"He _died_ trying to leave?" Harry asked quietly, aware of the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and wanting to verify the story before they were interrupted.

"Not long after he finished Hogwarts," Sirius confirmed. His eyes flitted to the doorway, "He's only alive because he's believed dead," he muttered so quietly Harry had to strain his ears to hear.

"HARRY!" A girl shrieked and his vision became obscured by a large quantity of bushy brown hair as Hermione flung herself at him, engulfing him in a hug.

"He's in here, Ron! Harry is here!"

Sirius watched their exchange with an odd expression. "I'll let you catch up," he said, backing out of the room as Ron came in.

"We didn't hear you arrive," Hermione exclaimed. "Were the Dursleys better this summer? You aren't furious with us, are you? I know our letters were useless – but we couldn't tell you anything! Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't. Oh, we've got loads to tell you."

"Not all in one breath, I hope," he said as he swept her hair out of his face.

Ron grinned, "Let him breathe."

Hermione released him but continued to grin at him.

"Can you believe this is where Sirius grew up?" Ron asked.

"Mrs. Weasley said the Blacks were a really dark family," Hermione said pensively.

"Yeah Sirius' brother was even a death eater," Ron said in amazement. The words _under duress_ suddenly came to Harry's mind. He'd heard it while listening to the muggle news and based on Sirius' description, he thought it seemed somewhat fitting for Regulus. He remembered how quickly he'd pointed out that he was underage when he said he wanted to join the Order. "Mum reckons the whole family supported him – except Sirius of course."

"And Tonks," Hermione added. "Her mother is Sirius' cousin."

"Yeah, but she was disowned for being a decent human being," Ron said amusedly. "Sirius was disowned too! It was all the gossip when it happened because he was the firstborn-"

"How would you know?" Harry asked, irritated his friends had been told anything of Sirius' family before he had. "You wouldn't have been alive then."

"My mum told us," Ron answered somewhat defensively, his ears turning red.

"So it's just rumors then? I don't expect your mother would have been friendly with such a dark family."

He opened his mouth and closed it again before muttering what sounded like, "The tapestry supports it."

Hermione drew his attention back to the tapestry, "Did you see the Malfoys on here?" He followed her finger and sure enough Draco was there, the son of Sirius' cousin, if he was reading it correctly.

Harry looked from the tapestry to his best friends and quite suddenly felt annoyed with them. For two weeks, he'd been alone at Privet Drive, longing to see his friends. Here, they'd been together, in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix - in his godfather's house; learning things about him that he didn't even know.

Hermione seemed to sense his mood change, frowning as she exchanged a look with Ron.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione," Harry said in what he hoped was a casual tone, "but I would have thought you'd want to be home with your parents just two weeks into the summer."

Her face reddened, "Oh, well I er-"

"Didn't like being cut off from the magical world, did you?" he asked knowingly. "No information about Voldemort coming in," they both flinched at the name. "I can only _imagine_ how annoying that must have been," he said sarcastically.

"Dumbledore said it was safest for you to be with your relatives," Hermione answered in a placating tone. "He told us-"

"Not to tell me anything. Yeah, I got it."

"It's been boring here," Ron complained, likely in effort to make him feel better though it only served to irritate him further.

"You've been bored," he repeated.

"Yeah, we haven't been allowed into the meetings. Mum's just had us cleaning – well, throwing things out really-"

"YOU'VE BEEN _BORED_? YOU'VE BEEN _HERE_ , HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE BEEN TOGETHER! YOU CAN USE MAGIC! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS FOR TWO WEEKS!"

"We can't use magic here," Hermione interjected. She looked almost scandalized.

"Yes, we can," Harry said, pleased to be able to share something he knew and they didn't. "Underage magic can't be detected here. Sirius told me."

"That's brilliant," Ron said.

"That's illegal – AARGH!"

With two loud cracks, Fred and George had materialized out of thin air, landing on either side of Hermione.

"Stop _doing_ that," she said weakly.

"Hello Harry," George smiled.

"Did I hear something about illegal activity?" Fred asked keenly.

"Only that underage magic can't be detected here," Ron announced happily.

"Oh, little brother," George said contritely.

"So innocent," Fred shook his head.

"What? _"_ he asked irritably.

"If you haven't figured it out for yourself by now, I deem you're unworthy to know," Fred said.

"What are you talking about?" Ron demanded.

"I expect underage magic can't be detected at the Burrow," Hermione said distastefully. "Except by your mother, of course."

"Of course," Fred and George said together in a regretful tone.

"Well go ahead and try it then," Fred prodded, seeing Harry had drawn his wand.

"Oh, Harry. You really are the last person who should test this," Hermione warned. "The Ministry would love for you to-"

" _Silencio_ ," he cast, hitting his target. Hermione's eyes widened as she continued to try to speak though made no audible sound.

Fred and George exchanged an amused look. Ron's eyes widened in surprise and he covered his smile with a cough.

The hair on Harry's neck stood on end as he waited, expecting a warning from the Ministry to come any moment.

"Well that settles it," George said after a moment.

"I thought you knew it would work," Ron accused.

"One can never know until they try," Fred said regretfully.

Hermione threw up her arms in exasperation, prompting Harry to end the spell.

"You should know our mother will not approve of this," George remarked. "You'll have to be careful."

"Sirius is the one who told me I could do it," Harry said.

"It was irresponsible for him to tell you that," Hermione protested.

"Careful Hermione," Fred warned.

"Harry doesn't seem to be in the mood for nagging today," George added with a smirk.

* * *

"I'd like to hear more about what happened last night," Regulus said, looking at Carina and Caelum in turn.

Carina, who'd barely spoken all day, glanced at him. "Could you be more specific?"

Regulus exhaled slowly. It had been a long day, but he was determined to sound more patient than he felt, "Are you trying to gauge how much I already know?" he asked.

She looked up, not to meet his eyes rather, to look at some object just above his head, "I simply wanted to clarify what you are asking," she said casually.

There were times when he appreciated how clearly the Black blood flowed in her veins. This wasn't one of those times. His eyes drifted to Caelum, "You can't go wrong with telling me the truth."

He glanced at his sister before answering. "We met your brother," he admitted. "He ordered Kreacher to bring him the youngest Black heir, expecting it would be you. Carina ordered him to come back, and when he returned without me, she made him take her to where I was."

"Because you were worried about him," Regulus supplied, watching Carina.

She raised her chin, "I didn't want him to do anything stupid."

Regulus nodded, recognizing that in Carina-speak, that meant she had in fact been worried about him. She might harass her younger brother on occasion, but she would hex anyone else who tried to.

"Why did you lie about it?"

Caelum looked down, "I didn't want you to be mad."

"You couldn't have stopped Sirius from summoning you. Lying, on the other hand, was a conscious decision."

Caelum opened his mouth, winced and closed it again. Regulus suspected Carina had kicked him under the table.

"You must have realized Kreacher would tell us the truth."

"Not mum," Carina muttered to herself.

Regulus didn't react but mentally took note of the implication. He had known for years that Kreacher was more loyal to the three of them than he was to Maliah. Whether it was because of blood, or some other reason, scarcely mattered. He'd have to alert Maliah that Carina had figured it out.

Realizing he was watching her, Carina's eyes narrowed, "You aren't exactly honest with us, are you?"

"Regarding what?"

"I wouldn't know where to start," she said dryly. "But since we're all being honest here, maybe you can tell me what _possessed_ you to name me after that psycho-?"

"Wrong question, Carina," Caelum said. From his quiet intensity, Regulus had a sinking suspicion about where this was going and was filled with dread. "Sirius said you've done things you wouldn't want us to know about." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a tea cup. He sat it on the table between them, the embossed, "Toujours Pur" clearly legible. "You weren't fighting for muggleborn rights back in Britain, were you?"

It's a difficult reality to face when you realize the person you look up to most isn't who you think they are. For Regulus it had been Voldemort. And the idea of him being bothered to know he'd disappointed him was laughable. Caelum, on the other hand, had always looked up to his father the most. Regulus wasn't quite prepared for the way he was looking at him when he met his gaze.

"My family sided with Voldemort during the war, Sirius being the exception. I joined the death eaters at sixteen – I thought, at the time, I was doing what was right."

"That would explain why you don't like my half-blood boyfriend," Carina said dryly.

Regulus tore his eyes away from Caelum to look at her.

"I _left_ them for a reason. When have you ever heard me say blood status matters?"

She pulled her mouth to one side contemplatively. "You've told me I'm too good for Andre – multiple times."

"You're my daughter. There isn't a boy you could date that I would think is good enough for you."

"Well that's optimistic," she answered, her tone a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"It's a requirement. Your grandfather told your mother something similar about me, I believe."

"Well yeah, but you were a death eater, that would have been difficult to refute." A ghost of a smile graced her features, "Can I have my wand back?" she asked suddenly.

As Carina was considering the ways his admittance could work to her advantage, Caelum gave each of them a look of disgust and left the room. Regulus didn't try to stop him, knowing he would prefer time to sort out his thoughts alone. There was also the matter of not entirely knowing the right thing to say himself.

* * *

Reviews are appreciated~ I expect some will be disappointed Harry and Sirius are at Grimmauld Place, but I think they needed to try it out first, even if it is *possibly*short-lived.


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